


Adora and the Beast

by MissNin



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Angst, Beauty and the Beast AU, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/F, F/M, Fluff, HAROLD THEY’RE LESBIANS, Hurt/Comfort, Rating May Change, Savage Glimmer, Self Confidence Issues, Shadow Weaver | Light Spinner (She-Ra)'s A+ Parenting, Slow Burn, Tale as Old as Time, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:22:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 89,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26899633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissNin/pseuds/MissNin
Summary: Once upon a time a beautiful young Prince was placed under a curse, to learn to love and be loved before the last petal fell.Cold, alone, and hope lost, she accepted her fate and locked herself away.And then one day, a girl arrived at her castle door.It's a tale as old as time.* * * * *It's the Beauty and the Beast AU me and one other person on tumblr asked for. Also, Catra is a lady Prince because referring to her as a Princess feels wrong.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Bow/Glimmer (She-Ra), Minor or Background Relationship(s), Perfuma/Scorpia (She-Ra)
Comments: 285
Kudos: 572
Collections: Shera





	1. Adventure In The Great Wide Somewhere

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone and welcome to my brain rot. I haven't written fanfiction in years but I was just listening to a random playlist and heard "Evermore" from the live-action Beauty and the Beast soundtrack and all I could think about was Catra being dramatic in a tower in a cloak and now we're here. This will be a retelling and based on the tags you already know that there will be smut.
> 
> I anticipate this being no more than 10 chapters but I think once I see how far we get by chapter 3 I'll know for certain.
> 
> This is an indulgent mix of my favorite show and my favorite fairytale so I hope you enjoy it!

_Once upon a time, in the hidden heart of Etheria, a handsome young prince lived in a beautiful castle._

_Although she had everything her heart desired, the prince was bitter, angry, and unkind._

_On the night of her 22nd birthday, as she sat alone yet again, an unexpected intruder arrived at the castle. A haggard old beggar woman seeking shelter from the raging storm._

_As a gift, she offered the prince a single rose. Angered and repulsed by the unwelcome guest, the prince turned the woman away... But she warned her against judging others based on appearances... For beauty is found within._

_When she dismissed her again, the old woman's outer appearance melted away to reveal a powerful enchantress._

_The prince begged for forgiveness, but it was too late. For she had seen that there was no room for love in her embittered heart._

_As punishment, she transformed her into a beast and placed a powerful spell on the castle and all who lived there._

_As days bled into years, the prince and her servants were forgotten by the world, for the enchantress had erased all memory of them from the minds of the people they loved._

_But the rose she had offered was truly an enchanted rose. If the prince could learn to love another and earn their love in return by the time the last petal fell, the spell would be broken. If not, she would be doomed to remain a beast for all time._

_As the years passed, she fell into despair and her heart grew cold, for who could ever learn to love a beast?_

__________  
  


It was the same sunlight that awoke Adora that morning, the same sunlight as every morning. The same sunlight for the same morning for the same day to end the same way. Since she and her grandmother had moved to the small town of Thaymor 8 months ago, Adora had found her life to be something a little worse than “stagnant” and more of a harmless purgatory. She sighed and rolled out of bed, greeting the day as she always did, with unwarranted optimism and hope for purpose.

She could hear her grandmother already bustling about in the kitchen, likely making a pie between her bizarre tinkering. She smiled at the thought, she didn’t have much in this world to cling to but grandma Razz was a spitfire of a woman, one who always encouraged her granddaughter to grow and change.

When Adora proclaimed she would learn to read better than any boy ever could at the age of 5, Razz had clapped with glee and taken her to the nearest library. The two had pulled every book Adora liked the looks of and then spent days sounding out words and scraping together their meaning. Or the time Adora made it clear she wanted to be handier as her grandmother aged so she could handle their more challenging needs and Razz helped her learn the ins and outs of getting a job done. By 10, she was fixing their chairs and maintaining the family wagon with no oversight.

Razz never discouraged her granddaughter from expanding her horizons. She may have been shite at knitting, but by 16 Adora was running circles around her peers mentally and physically. She was clever as they came and stronger than most felt a woman should, but her worst offense was how happy she seemed to be with herself. Alienated from her peers, Adora seemed steadfast in her dedication to consume the world and learn everything she could about it.

And so Adora was alone, alone and apt to create extravagant mental escapes built on the knowledge she knew of the world outside. The world she longed to know but knew she couldn’t. Her grandmother needed her, their income had its limits, and her duty to help provide for her only living family outweighed her dreams of something far away.

She wandered into the kitchen, already intoxicated with the warm scent of baked berries and sugar, and smiled at the sight of her grandmother fussing about. There was a market 2 days travel from their village where Razz intended to sell her pies and decorative gadgets. Mechanics? Art machines? Adora didn’t know what to call the strange gizmos and doo-dads Razz created but she marveled in their intricate wonder nonetheless.

“Oh, Adora Dearie! Wonderful to see you up, do you have an adventure ahead of you?” her grandmother asked as though her day to day had not been a monotonous trudge since their arrival. But she smiled, Gran did her best and Adora had no one she loved more.

“Of course!” She laughed, grabbing some bread off the counter then pecking the old woman on the cheek. "Why I have eggs to buy since someone used them all for pie crust and then books to return to the library! What a day I have! Why I may even try to fit in time to sit and ponder what the next day will bring me.” As the old woman giggled Adora slipped on her boots and swallowed the last few bites of breakfast.

“Will you be leaving soon?” Adora asked as she laced her boot and stood, tossing her satchel over her shoulder and made another futile attempt to pat out the wrinkles in her dress.

Adora wasn’t averse to her femininity, but it seemed her love of reading, running, exploring, and general mischief had made others upset at her comfort with it. Apparently being a woman meant quiet observations and gentle submission. Things Adora had no intention of embodying. But still, as she once again ran her hands down her well worn white dress and soft blue petticoat, she felt the preemptive anxiety of being not quite right. Too manly for a dress, too womanly for an education, and yet there she was, existing in spite of them all. She knew who she was, but her heart jumped at the knowledge no one else seemed inclined to know her back.

“Yes my Dearie,” Razz replied, gently patting Adora’s back as if ushering out the door, “but I’ll be back soon enough and you, you will have a great adventure waiting for you! My Adora, the greatest bloom of any garden. You will do so much.” And the woman tugged her granddaughter down so she could place a kiss to her forehead.

“Of course Gran, any day now.” Adora laughed and walked her grandmother to her wagon, their horse Swift Wind already excited for the journey ahead. She helped the old woman onto her seat and patted Swifty as he neighed in joyful response.

As Razz settled in, reins in her hands, she smiled down at her granddaughter and asked the same question she always asked. “Now Dearie, what can Razz bring you back from the market? What would make my Adora happiest?”

Adora rolled her eyes at the question, “What I want most is for you to come back in one piece so I don’t have to make my own pie.” The two shared a chuckle at memories of Adora burning pastries, cursing at the oven, and the handful of small fires she caused over the years. “Bring me back a rose Gran. Whichever one you think is best.”

At that, the old woman reached down to hold her granddaughter’s cheek and beamed that wild grin of hers. “Adora Dearie, this time I think I will bring you a rose like nothing you’ve ever seen.”

And with that the old woman gave her cheek a final pat and cracked the reins, sending her cart flying towards the woods as her cackle rang out louder than any noise should.

Adora watched as the two beings she loved most in this world left her for 2 days and, while her imagination was a wild fierce thing, she couldn’t imagine a fulfilling day without them. But still, she stepped back and watched them disappear into the woods, a delicate melancholy already playing in her heart.

With a final sigh, she returned to the task at hand, visiting the village market and engaging with the local folk. While Adora wasn’t necessarily on bad terms with anybody, she had found this town seemed… apprehensive when it came to Adora Greyskull.

Adora knew she was “pretty” but she never felt quite comfortable with the way people looked at her, as though they were already disappointed in her wasted potential. She stood taller than most of the girls her age, blonde hair always high in a tight ponytail (save the little poof that seemed an inevitable staple) and shoulders square and determined as though they were built to command. She was stronger than girls were supposed to be, with muscles “unbecoming” of a lady and scars she wore proudly. Adora wasn’t like the other girls in town, though she didn’t understand why that was wrong.

Once or twice she had struck up a conversation with the women she saw but they always seemed nervous, as though whatever Adora was would rub off on them. Their eyes would dart at every sound, worried that someone would hear them talking. It hurt to see how nervous they were to be heard expressing themselves.

Gran told her she was beautiful because Adora was Adora. That anyone that didn’t understand the absolute shine of who she was inside and out lacked “the magic” to see her. That always made her feel better, but it didn’t make it easier.

Her first few steps into the bustling marketplace felt more like an old dance than an errand, the baker bustling out his storefront without regard to his surroundings and the local orchard owner seller making his plays at the same women he saw every day. Adora weaved her way from vendor to vendor making polite small talk that never lasted long enough to ask her the standard “Anyone handsome caught your eye?” or “Still reading those foolish stories?” The answer would be a resounding no and yes but she hated the looks that followed.

She approached the library, the only building in town she found sweet refuge in that sat opposite her own as bookends of a village built from her insecurities. A genuine smile breaking through her forced facade of polite as she approached the old oak door, her hand reaching to grip the brass knob that meant a reprieve from this small provincial town until-

  
  
Prime. Adora watched a strong, unwelcomed hand grip her wrist as it pulled her towards its owner. A tall man, his eyes a dead sort of murky green and his hair a white sort of platinum blonde stood above her, leering down with an accomplished look on his face.

“My my Adora, what is a beautiful lady such as yourself doing at a place like this?” His glee hardly faltered as she ripped her hand out of his grasp. Stepping back but never faltering on her destination.

This too was an almost daily occurrence. Prime, the local war hero known for his brute strength and little else had set his sights on Adora the moment she and Razz arrived. While seemingly smitten by the blonde, he only seemed to like her for her appearance and the fact that she showed no interest in him. And despite Adora’s persistent rebukes, he only pursued her harder, catching her in quiet moments where she dared let her guard down.

Were that not bad enough he was always flanked by his lackey Hordak, a man seemingly devoted to the idea of playing second fiddle to the town brute. Despite standing only a few inches shorter than Prime, he always appeared small when next to his idol. Adora was often amused by the dark-haired man who often looked conflicted with his need to provide unwavering support to Prime and the slight cringe in his face when he heard the man misstep in his own arrogance. She would have almost tried to engage him on his own were it not for how often the unwavering support side of him won over common courtesy.

She shook herself to address the latest installment of “wooing”.

“Prime… so good to see you. I didn’t know you knew where the library was.” She giggled, the man stared unblinking and unmoving, his sidekick smiling uncomfortably.

“I’m here to return a book, this one was about two friends in fair Mystacor upending an evil stronghold. Have you read it?” She knew he hadn’t but enjoyed the mechanics that went into his ability to process her preference for prose. Still, though, he shook his head and leaned in closer.

“My dear Adora, the only stronghold you should think of overthrowing is your ridiculous attempts to avoid me. Adora,” he sighed grandly as he motioned to the town before them, “a woman such as yourself needn’t read, you need only to find a suitor, raise his children, and make a happy home. You’ll never find that in books!” He laughed at a joke she wasn’t aware he’d told and edged closer to the doorframe.

“Prime, that’s well and good but I don’t think that’s what I have planned for myself.” She was so close, a few more inches and quick breath would have her in the library and safe amongst it’s words that Prime couldn’t comprehend.

“Adora, maybe you just haven’t met the right suitor.” He leered closer, grinning a grin that seemed better suited for prey than romance. She gulped, almost there.

“Prime, I’ve met all the suitors in town and I’m quite certain there’s no one here for me. I’m sorry, but again I must insist that I have no plans to marry you.” And with that final push, she cracked the door open and slipped inside, shutting the door firmly behind her and gripping the knob tight in case he tried to pursue her. But he didn’t, he never did. He may have fought a war, but when it came to women he seemed inclined for easy open-air targeting rather than pushing his pursuits in front of others. After all, it wouldn’t do well for the town’s most eligible bachelor to be rejected by the town freak in front of anyone aside from his sidekick.

  
  
As she let loose the breath she’d been holding for what felt like hours she quickly recollected herself as she took in the warm familiarity of the town’s library. A small collection lovingly tended to the town’s resident scholars Angella and Michah, a kind and caring couple who despite being oddly parental had no children of their own. Not that Adora would ever ask mind you, she hated people pestering her about that and she would be the last to wish that discomfort on anyone else. Still, the way the two hovered and cooed over her left Adora wondering what they would be like with a daughter of their own.

Moments later Michah came around the corner, a stack of books higher than his head, and almost knocked himself straight into Adora. Before the man could trip and send his collection flying, Adora readied the tower and caught the lone book daring to fly off the top.

“Adora my dear!” Micah laughed heartily, shifting his tower of books to adjust his glasses and gaze up at the blonde, “Back again? Don’t tell me you finished already!” She ducked her head and blushed, the smile on her face growing in a way it seemed only able to when she was here or home with Razz. It was nice, to feel seen and liked for it.

“I couldn’t stop, it was just beautiful. Two friends, born on the wrong side of the war, losing each other and fighting only to come together in the end. They even…” Adora trailed off remembering the text describing the two sharing a heartfelt confession and a kiss that saved the world. She swallowed her words and hummed, averting her eyes, and hoped to swallow down the quick flame that bloomed in her chest.

Micah smiled and nodded, shelving the latest additions while listening with genuine interest. “So where will you go next? Anywhere in mind?” Adora grinned and made her way to the top shelf on the far left, hand already reaching for an old red book she’d grabbed what felt like a hundred times before. Her hand wrapped around the spine and she already felt the warmth of an old friend, one who never failed to make her smile and ease her mind… or at least what she imagined a friend would do. Right?

“This one”, she whispered, “again if you don’t mind?” She turned to see Micah beaming at her, this truly was one of the few places she felt allowed to simply exist unchecked. To be enthusiastically herself, it was something she tended not to realize she missed until she was away again.

“You know what Adora, why don’t you keep it?”

Adora went from shock to panic, “Oh Micah I couldn’t take one of your books! You all are already so generous I couldn’t, I just -”

“Adora, I insist. Please, I can’t think of a better home for a book than with someone who cherishes it.” His eyes were soft and his face so sincere, Adora could only nod in warm awe and look back down at the novel in her hands.

“I promise to take excellent care of it!” She promised as she lovingly tucked the book into her pack.

“I’m sure you will, dear. I have to get back to the study but I’ll let Angella know you stopped by. Take care!” And off he went, leaving Adora alone to breathe in the peace of the library for a moment before reentering society and resuming her game of polite people dodging.

__________  
  


A few hours later found Adora about a half-mile away from town, sitting on a hillside pouring over her favorite book once again. As the chapter came to a close Adora hummed as she set it aside, pausing to stare out at the vast world around her. Out past the Whispering Woods was a world, was adventure, was… something new, she just knew it.

One day she’d see it right? One day she wouldn’t just read about adventures but she’d have one. One day she’d meet someone, not some village meathead but someone who understood her and didn’t think her too much and overly ambitious. A partner, a friend, a someone for her.

“Ughhhh...” she huffed, throwing herself back into the grass enjoying some theatrics if only for her own amusement. “Get it together Adora.”

She stared up at the clouds and found her mind slipping back into daydreams when she heard a panicked whinny in the distance. Propping herself up on her elbows she peered towards the woods to see Swift Wind galloping full speed towards her.

In an instant she was on her feet, sprinting towards the horse, meeting him near the hill’s crest, and doing her best to soothe him. “Swifty, what happened? Where’s Razz?” She looked to the horse for answers and received only a huff and a nod back towards the woods. She felt a chill run through her as she stared into the vast forest before them. Somewhere in this forest, her grandmother needed her. “Take me to her Swifty.”

__________

Three hours later, Adora found herself deeper in the woods than she’d ever been before. Armed with a days worth of supplies and any medicinal odds and ends she had found at home, Adora had mounted her steed and sped off without much thought to the setting sun and quickly approaching night.

The forest was eerily quiet, as though all the creatures living there had hidden away in hopes of further unsettling the girl on her journey. Every so often she’d hear a snap and jolt to find the source, holding her lantern out and peering into the darkness. Swift Wind managed to keep pace though as if he were just as determined as his rider to find Razz. He also seemed to know where to go, as they reached a fork in the rode he immediately pulled to the right giving no hesitation to his rider. She trusted him though, and she was determined to find her grandmother at any cost.

“What were you doing out here Razz…” Adora whispered to herself. The path they were on wasn’t in the right direction, while she hadn’t gone to market with her grandmother she had poured over a map of the route. She had quizzed her grandmother on everything she could think of about the trip, not just because she loved the idea of mapping the world she barely knew but so she could help in a situation like this one. Razz had laughed of course, “My Adora, such a worrier. Such a planner. Dearie, you don’t need to hover!” Waving off her busy body granddaughter.

And yet here she was, wandering in the woods at night terrified what awaited her when she found Razz. If she found Razz… No, there would be none of that. She would find Razz, she had to. Razz was all she had, her and Swift Wind. Her little family. Adora was so busy pulling herself out of another dark spiral she almost fell off Swift Wind as he stopped abruptly in his tracks, huffing as though he had been startled. She shook herself from her stupor to reach forward and calm him, then looked up to see what had caused his falter and felt all brain function cease.  
  
  


Before them, seemingly out of nowhere, stood a massive iron gate guarding a castle. No, not a castle, a castle was a great tall thing from her books that emanated wondrous splendor and warmth. This place, this estate seemed almost alive and angry about it; as though it challenged anyone to enter out of spite. The dark fortress was seemingly surrounded on all sides by what must have once been a sprawling garden. Old stone bridges covered in vines, ponds, and brooks a cold grey, and dead shrubs stood in odd shapes as Adora imagined them more a topiary graveyard than an abandoned lot. All leading to the grand stone entrance, an unwelcoming invitation to enter the looming monstrosity and feel like a lost mouse.

And yet… and yet Adora found herself dismounting Swift Wind wordlessly as her hand, seeking no permission from her other senses, pushed open the old barrier. Despite its rust and vine-covered bars, it gave no resistance as it gently swung back. Had Adora been less awestruck she may have wondered if the gate was merely waiting to open for her, as if it wanted her to proceed.

Making her way through the dead garden she felt a genuine shiver run through her and stopped almost gobsmacked to find the ground covered in snow. In her daze, she had failed to realize she had wandered into winter a whole season early. Back home the leaves had just begun to change yet here it felt as though the dead of winter had loomed overhead for months or maybe years. As she touched a statue nearby she dusted the snow off it in a studious wonder, how could there be snow? She hadn’t gone up that high had she? No, she had studied the maps with Gran, this area didn’t have mountains with altitudes so high it warranted its own climate. Then again, all her maps hadn’t said anything about a castle. In fact, no one in town had ever mentioned this either. Surely they all knew though? How could something like this be so close but so far from their minds?

Suddenly she felt something nudge her back and she broke from her wondering with a shriek to find Swift Wind bringing her back to reality. She shook herself and took some deep breaths, pushing down her curiosity to remember what brought her here, finding Razz. Looking back to Swift Wind he nuzzled her closely then jerked his head to the front door and she swallowed gazing upon the massive wood doors.

“Swifty is, is she here?” She looked back to see the horse jerk again to the castle before them. Why would she be here though? What could possess her grandmother to enter this unnatural winter, wander through the grey garden, and into the looming castle? Maybe she was drawn here like Adora. Maybe she too had pushed the gate open without realizing it until she was already on the doorstep.

Whatever it may be, Swift Wind seemed positive she was in there and that’s where Adora needed to be. With a final deep breath and eyes squeezed tight, she climbed the stairs, reached out her hand, and knocked as loudly as she could. She waited in the cold, bitter breezes whipping stray hairs around her face and Swift Wind giving a worried whinny behind her. But Adora held fast, she didn’t jump back or shiver, she simply waited.

Moments passed and as she began to contemplate the rules of etiquette around barging into abandoned castles the door creaked open. Adora looked back once more at Swift Wind before crossing the threshold into the grand hall.  
  
  


The hall was two things, massive and dark. Adora squinted using the light from outside leaking through the open door to help her eyes adjust to the scene before her. An ornate staircase stood before her, lined with fearsome gargoyles and blanketed with soft sheets of spiderwebs. To her right, she could make out the silhouette of a large armchair, backlit by a roaring hearth, the most lively thing she’d seen since stepping through the gate. And that meant…

“Hello? Is anyone there?” she called out, her words echoing and dancing through what sounded like a labyrinth of empty halls. She paused, waiting for the fire starter to speak up and yet she heard nothing. But someone was here, in spite of the abandoned scenery. Someone lit the fire and with a closer look, the tall armchair in front of it looked surprisingly free of dust. She traced the intricate gold trimming that lined the chair’s upholstery, someone sat in this chair regularly. It was worn but used and maybe even loved. She smiled at the idea of someone curled up in it, how small they must feel nestled in this ornate piece of furniture in this vast and dark space with a large fire doing it’s best to warm a whole castle. Who would this person-

Focus Adora! She straightened up and shook her head. This castle seemed to be filled with little mysteries and she, so starved for something unknown, was doing everything she could to stay on the course. But she had to find Razz.

“Hello! Please, I’m looking for my grandmother. I think she came here or at least passed through? Can you help me?” Again, her words seemingly met empty air as she grew more irked by this absent phantom.

“Are you really going to ignore me? I’m trying to find a lost old woman and you’re just going to, what, give me the silent treatment? Quit being so childish!”

By the stairs, she heard a quick rustling and a whoosh, like something leaping through the air but no sound of landing ever came. Simultaneously, she heard a whisper coming from the chair and spun around to find no one but a lit candelabra sitting on the chair’s end table. That was new, right? Adora felt like she was seeing things, perhaps she had been so distracted by the fire she missed the candles? That had to be it.

A voice in her head disagreed, Adora didn’t miss things like that. But that voice was too quiet to be heard.

Adora steadied herself for what felt like the 15th time since her arrival, grabbed the candelabra, and made her way to the staircase where the whooshing sound had come from. If whoever was there wanted to play hide and seek, she didn’t have the time. She would explore on her own. If Razz was here Adora would find her. Besides, this place might be big but Adora was loud and these halls were quiet. She could make sure Razz heard her, and then she’d be able to call out.

Rounding the stairs she was shocked to see that to her left was a series of lit candles leading down the hall. Odd, wouldn’t she have seen their glow when she arrived? No matter.

She carried on, following the light of the candles as they took her down hall after hall, all the while calling out for Razz and ignoring the gnawing pit in her stomach that begged her to consider the danger of her situation. The halls began to grow darker if possible, colder as well. Adora noted the change in scenery as dusty tapestries and ripped paintings gave way to barren stone walls with small alcoves for candles to light the way.

She gripped the candelabra tighter and felt it almost wiggle against her grasp, like a creature being strangled. Out of panic she almost dropped it, but that was her only promised light source, and losing it wouldn’t do. It was just nerves obviously, but it didn’t help.

Once more she cupped a hand to her mouth and shouted for Razz, but this time she heard something. What sounded like the old woman’s laugh fluttered down the hall and Adora threw herself forward, running as fast as she could without risk of putting out the flames. She kept calling out, tears filling her eyes and threatening to blind her as she continued to lurch forward towards the laugh of her grandmother.

 _  
“Aww, she’s so sweet.”_ A voice spoke.

No, Adora had imagined a voice, much like she had imagined the candle moving. Like the many inklings and signs that things in this castle were not as they seemed, Adora pushed through and ignored them all because all that mattered was Razz. And with the final turn of the corner, she came face to face with the woman of the hour, locked in a cell.

  
“Razz!” Adora practically screamed as she fell to her knees gripping the cell bars staring at the old woman behind them. “I was so worried about you! How did you end up here? What is this place? Are you alright?” Words and frantic pants poured out of the girl as she looked at her gran who seemed, surprisingly calm.

“Hello, Adora Dearie! I knew you’d come and find old Razz, what took you so long? Did you get lost?” The old woman shuffled over and placed a cold hand atop Adora’s through the bars.

“Child, why are you crying? Come on now, don’t be sad!” Despite Razz’s smiles, Adora was less confident in the old woman’s optimism. She was locked in a cell, cold to the touch in what as an abandoned castle left off every map she’d seen. This wasn’t the time for calm, this was the time for strategic panic.

_  
“She’s coming. She’s going to ruin everything.”_

Adora’s head shot up, the voice again. Small and close by. It sounded worried and… annoyed? She looked up and down the halls but found no one. Just her and Razz and, she looked down at the candelabra and immediately shook her head. Focus Adora.

“Razz we have to get out of here. You’re freezing and this place is,” she gestured around the dungeon walls, “bad. We shouldn’t be here. Why are you even here? Who put you in a cell?”

The old woman chuckled and patted Adora’s cheek. “Well Dearie, it would seem I tried to pick the wrong rose. I’m sorry, I don’t think I’ll be able to get this one for you.” Adora stared shell shocked before rage began to run through her veins.

“A rose? Someone put you in here for a rose?!” She shouted, standing as her fists curled and she felt her shoulders shake. “Who the hell would do such a thing!”

That same whoosh sound from the front hall returned, only this time it came with a roar and wind that blew all the lights out. Before she had time to react a snarling shadow rushed at her, pinning her against the bars a foot off the ground with an arm across her chest.

“Who the hell comes into someone else’s home and tells them what to do thieves!” The shadow hissed down at her, its eyes pointed and glowering at Adora like she was both prey and prisoner.

“Please, I just-” she gasped as she tried to tug at the arm pinning her.

“Just what, barged into my home and decided to raid my dungeon?” The growl grew louder and the voice behind it sounded even angrier at her attempt at defense. “This thief came into my castle and tried to steal my rose. The punishment is to sit in that cell forever!”  
  


_“Dramatic as always…”_

The voice had appeared again and Adora’s assailant was just distracted enough by it that they dropped Adora to hiss at the offender. Adora caught her breath before she shakily stood back up, throwing her arms in front of the cell door.

“Please! She’s an old woman, you can’t keep her here, she’ll die. Would you really condemn someone over a flower?”

The shadow turned its attention back to her and Adora’s breath caught as a striking blue and a glowing gold pair of eyes narrowed at her. The figure chuckled, “My whole world was damned for one, a life sentence is the least she can do. What would you have me do, let the thief go?”

Adora, in spite of her situation, scoffed, “Well obviously! Especially for the supposed crime of taking a flower!” The shadow snarled but remained where it was, a few feet away yet too far for Adora to make out. They were taller, though not much taller than her and their eyes were the most breathtakingly dangerous colors she’d ever seen. But the sounds the figure made weren’t human, they sounded feral. They sounded angry.

“The punishment for the crime is life in a cell. There is no alternative.”

Adora looked back at her gran, still smiling up at her Adora in spite of everything happening a few feet away. How was she this calm? But Adora saw her rub her hands and remembered how cold they were. Razz couldn’t stay here, she couldn’t let that happen.

“Then take me instead.” There was a long pause and she almost caught the shadow falter before it regained its composure and straightened.

“Excuse me?” The snarling voice asked. Adora grit her teeth.

“Take me instead. My grandmother is old and she won’t last long here. You want a life sentence right? Well, I have more than enough of that to offer, so take me instead. Let her go and I’ll stay here in her place.”

The shadow paused and seemed to consider her offer, shifting as it looked her over. For her part Adora never faltered, didn’t cower or shake. She stared right ahead at those gleaming gems in the darkness, undeterred in her resolve. “So you want to play the hero, huh? If you do this, you can never leave. You can’t change your mind. You will stay here in this cell forever. Is that really what you want?”

“Yes.” The shadow's cold laugh filled the dungeon.

“Very well, we have a deal.” And from the darkness, Adora could make out a hand reaching forward, one covered fur with long black nails. Adora held in her reaction and shook, more certain than before this was the right thing. Whoever they were, Razz would be safest miles and miles away from them.

In one swift motion, the shadow was upon her flinging the cell door open and tossing her in while yanking Razz out and slamming it behind them. Adora scrambled forward reaching for her grandmother’s hand, “Razz! Wait, you have to let me say goodbye!”

“That wasn’t part of the deal.” The shadow growled as it looked at her from the door.

“You monster, let me say goodbye! Razz!” Adora screamed, her steely resolve breaking as she watched the shadow pull her grandmother away.

“Adora Dearie!” The old woman tried to punch the creature and began shouting “Razzle dazzle” as she attempted feeble kicks to its side.

“ENOUGH!” They bellowed, whatever decorum they had been attempting gone and replaced with a rage that filled the air.

“You want to know what kind of monster I am, princess? You want to see what you shook on?!” And suddenly the candelabra lit to life and in its glow stood the shadow. Only it wasn’t a shadow, but a sneering fanged woman. Sharp claws shining, a tail whipping about, ears flat back ready to attack, and those deadly gemstones glowering at her new prisoner. She looked like a lioness, grinning down at the animal foolish enough to wander into its trap. Adora wondered what kind of beast stood before her. Was she from hell? Was she a monster? Was Adora going to die?

She let loose a sick angry laugh as Adora’s breath audibly caught in her throat.

“Remember, a deals a deal.” And with that, the light went out again and Adora listened as her grandmother was whisked away by the beast.

As she sat alone in the dark cell, Adora waited for the silence to return but it never did. The sounds of her sobs kept it at bay as she wrapped her arms around herself and thought of the life she’d had only this morning.


	2. It’s a Guest!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back! This chapter was a bit of a struggle and definitely less action more groundwork, but I hope you like it. Also, we're switching up our POV and meeting some of the castle's enchanted inhabitants :)

It was always the same sunlight that awoke Catra each morning, harsh white rays that ripped through her old ragged curtains and roused her no matter how much she groaned and growled. The same sunlight for the same morning for the same day to end the same way.

Except for this day, because on this day which found herself once again haunting the halls of her castle and avoiding her staff’s unwarranted chipperness she heard a clatter from the front hall. The sound jolted her out of her moody stupor, eyes alert and ears swiveling to place it. It wasn’t like a sound she’d heard in years because this sound had footsteps. Human footsteps. 

Her body tensed and she felt rage at the intrusion already coursing through her body before she dropped on all fours and broke into a sprint towards the sound. Nearing the main hall she leaped onto a pillar’s ledge, the ornate stonework she once deemed excessive had proven more useful in the past few years. As she leaped from ledge to ledge out of sight and high enough to scope out the scene below in full, she was shocked to see a small old woman shuffling about her foyer. 

Stifling down a growl that would give away her position, she watched the old woman make her way to the fire. Catra’s fire next to Catra’s favorite chair. The old woman reached out to touch the grand chair’s red velvet lining and Catra felt another surge of white-hot anger shoot through her as she forced herself to continue to observe. As mad as she was… it had been so long since she’d seen anyone. 

She had almost forgotten what seeing a person in real life was like. How they breathed and moved, casting their shadows with little thought. The un-damned moved so freely.

“Oh, you poor dearie…”

That shook Catra from her train of thought. What? Did she mean her? How could she possibly know- no. 

Catra fell back into a more comfortable set of emotions, anger had no need for thoughts of sympathy. She resumed her seething as the old woman continued her unwelcome exploration of Catra’s home, uncaring that she was an intruder violating the last thing Catra could control in her world.

The woman began to climb the stairs of the hall and, to her agitation, had acquired a lit candelabra. Of course, she had chosen to insert herself into the situation. Catra could hiss at the world’s most boundary-breaking source of light she knew. Honestly, had she the ability to, Catra would have assumed she’d let the woman through the front doors in the first place. She at least had the sense to remain silent.

The old woman had made it to the top of the stairs, paused to gaze up at the ripped portrait before her, then turned left, all the while mumbling incoherent words to herself. Catra hummed with some dark glee as she mused on the convenience that the old woman was already going in the direction of the dungeon. Certainly made her job easier. Catra leaped again to balance on a gargoyle that jutted out overhead and eagerly awaited the woman’s oblivious march to her fate. Catra hadn't had fun in so long.

But then she did something unexpected, she had reached the point in the hallway where the entrance to West Wing stood. 

Catra’s sanctuary and safe place. Most of her staff wasn’t even allowed to enter, and those that were had to have a real reason to justify their presence. The entrance to her sanctum was shrouded in layers of dark tattered curtains and drapes. Early on, Catra had done everything she could to hole herself off from everything, she wanted to feel physically swallowed and unreachable. She couldn’t stand to see the new faces of her servants looking to her for answers.

And here was this stranger, unbothered by her clear deterrent, pushing the hangings aside and stepping right through like she knew exactly where she was going. Catra’s curiosity was just barely beating out her uncontrollable rage at this brazen stranger’s actions, but it was slowly losing ground. This was a violation and it felt almost intentional. Once the woman was fully engulfed Catra dropped to the ground and quietly slunk in behind her, melting into the dark as she stalked the old woman’s assault on her privacy.

She watched as the woman continued to open doors, ignore priceless works that lined her trek, and march forward only to slow as she neared her apparent end goal. In the middle of Catra’s chamber sat a pedestal holding a single floating red rose whose glow seemed not of this world, protected by a slim bell-shaped glass dome. It was Catra’s most precious and loathed possession. And this woman, this stranger, this intruder, was approaching it like she was entitled to it. Like this was a museum of Catra’s hell and she had received a personal invitation.

The woman came to stop right in front of the rose and gave a quiet gasp, “Oh my Mara, so this is what you’ve been up to…” and with that, she placed the candelabra down then let her other hand move towards the flower. And that was enough of that.

Catra surged forward and grabbed the old woman by the back of her cloak, spinning her around to face the master of the castle.

“How dare you break into my castle thief!” She bellowed at the old woman. With fangs bared and hackles raised, Catra unleashed every angry voice that had taken root in her mind since the woman’s arrival, and possibly others long waiting for an opening. Leering over the thief, she expected her to shake or scream, Catra’s appearance alone was one that could scare any mortal to an early grave. But the woman merely stared up at her in awe. Like Catra was a fascinating discovery and not some hideous monster. It made her angrier.

“Well? Do you have anything to say for yourself?!”

The old woman’s eyebrows knitted together like Catra had proposed some sort of great puzzle instead of demanding a basic explanation. It made her angrier.

“Oh Dearie, I wanted a rose for my granddaughter and I felt there might be one here. And I was right!” She said it so matter of factly. She didn’t sound ashamed or scared. It made her too angry.

“So you decided to break into my home and steal from me? Do you know what we do with thieves here?” She asked with no intent of hearing her answer. With as much controlled malice as she could manage, she dragged the old woman out of her chambers and towards the dungeon. This game had gone on too long and she had no intention of playing anymore. 

Besides, she’d never had a prisoner before.

  
__________

But what felt like only moments later (for after spending so long in isolation from the outside world the idea of two intruders in one day was enough to make her head spin) a blonde girl had burst through her door when her knocks went unanswered. The girl had seemed torn between awed wonder and resolute determination, eyes glazing over as she took in something new only to shake herself back to her senses and give a huff to refocus. 

It was… cute. 

Absolutely not. 

Catra hushed the ancient thought. That sort of feeling was from a different life.

Unlike her predecessor, the girl had called out to make her presence known, Catra had remained still and silent as she watched the girl grow more and more agitated with the silence. Good. She wasn’t keen on the audacity today’s uninvited company had shown.

She saw the blonde’s clench her fists and shout,  “Are you really going to ignore me? I’m trying to find a lost old woman and you’re just going to, what, give me the silent treatment? Quit being so childish!”

Catra quietly seethed at the insult, someone barges into her home and calls her childish? She leapt to a different perch, grabbing hold of a hanging sconce, and braced herself in a crouch against the wall, eyes narrowing at this latest annoyance… but wanting a closer look. 

The prince once again watched from her secret lookout as this latest intruder wandered her front hall, touched her chair, and unknowingly picked up the world’s most traitorous lady-in-waiting. She’d be having words with that glittery candlestick for her behavior today.

Once again she had stalked from the shadows, watching as the candelabra’s henchlights guided the blonde through her halls and towards the dungeon. From what she could tell, the girl was dense. You must be, to blindly follow a trail of lights unflinchingly, announcing your presence every few minutes, all in the hopes of finding someone you can only hope is there. She had wandered into danger with a blind determination reserved for fools with short lifespans.

And yet… Catra was transfixed. She kept her distance, despite every opportunity to intervene and scare the girl away. One look at her face, her claws, the gruesome ugly everything that made up the prince, and the girl would run. It was inevitable, she couldn’t lurk forever, but she wasn’t ready to chase her away just yet.

She wasn’t ready to see her face contort in repulsion.

But it would, eventually. 

So Catra had done what Catra did best. She’d let her anger act as the lead in her life’s saga once again and pinned the girl called Adora against the wall while the old woman watched on. Growling and hissing like the animal she was, she lashed out at this intruder who dared to question the practicality of condemning an old woman to life in a dungeon for the crime of taking a rose. Her rose was different and they couldn’t know that, but Catra had lashed out in blind rage anyways only to be forced to open her eyes moments later and observe the aftereffects.

“Dramatic,” the candelabra had called it, and what made her angrier was the voice inside her that knew she was right. She hated that voice.

But this intruder, this Adora, was set in her commitment to plow forward with no regard for her own well-being and Catra found herself with a choice, keep the old woman or take this girl instead. Watching her stand with arms outstretched, resolute in her mission to save this woman at any cost, Catra was struck by something more than intrigue. 

This girl wasn’t dense, she was brave. Brave to default it would seem, but brave nonetheless. 

And unique. And Catra thought of her rose, her beautiful, horrible, life-ruining, otherworldly rose looming over her life from its pedestal. That rose which evoked a desperate skip of her heartbeat when she stared at it too long, and how staring at this girl’s darkened blue eyes caused the same response in her chest.

When she reached her clawed hand forward, Adora met her unshrinking. She touched her fur, felt the pricks of the sharp knives at the end of her fingers, and she didn’t shriek or pull back in horror. 

No one had touched her hand in...

Stop it.

She made the deal. Locked the girl away, ripped the woman from her reaching grasp, and denied them a goodbye. Enjoyed the comfortable familiar taste of anger and petty cruelty for the sake of being in control of anything in her life. 

Catra showed Adora what she was, making sure to put her beastly form on display so the girl could properly see what a mistake she had made. Make her see the animal that had trapped her in hell with it. She showed her fangs and gloated at her misfortune. Laughed at her cries for her grandmother. Catra was a monster after all.

When the blonde’s face fell and had finally shifted to that of horror, Catra savored the warm dread in her stomach. It was familiar. It was safe. The little voice in her head silenced once more.

She turned and left, unwilling to look at her a moment longer, dragging the old woman who was still unsuccessfully kicking about. Catra wanted, no needed, to be as far from the girl as possible. Be far away as possible.

Because, despite herself, it had still hurt to see the fear in Adora’s eyes when she saw Catra. It had hurt to see that the thing to break the blonde’s steely resolve, the stupid bravery, was the sight of her.

__________

  
  


Adora felt her breathing slowly begin to even out, her sobs beginning to temper. She stared around the cold cell, taking in what she could from the little moonlight streaming through a small window just high enough on the far wall to be out of reach. There wasn’t much in there, a long-forgotten pile of straw meant to be a bed, a bucket with some water, an old rag- wait.

She scrambled forward to grab the piece of cloth and hold it to her face, fighting back more tears. It was Razz’s handkerchief. Adora held it to the light like it was a fine piece of porcelain and traced the delicate flowers embroidered along its edges. She had something from home in this dreadful place and in spite of the circumstances she smiled. 

Mind almost lost in her moment of joy, running her fingers along each stitch made by her grandmother, she still managed to catch the sound of voices approaching. Immediately tucking the cloth away in her petticoat pocket, she crept up against the wall next to her cell door to try and overhear the newcomers.

“- I’m telling you this is for her own good. She’s just being stubborn.” A woman’s voice, that small mystery voice from earlier, spoke with an air of stubborn authority.

“Keep it down!” A second voice hushed. It sounded like a man’s voice, clearly more anxious than his companion.

Adora held her breath as she heard them growing closer, noting the strange sound of what must have been their footsteps. They were small, little sounds. One tinny and the other a hollow wood sound and there was… a ticking? With the glow of candlelight approaching, Adora shuffled back and looked around in hopes of some sort of weapon, settling on the bucket. The sound of locks unlocking and the cell door creaking open sent an adrenaline rush through Adora as she raised the bucket above her head. Adora was a fighter after all and she was ready.

But Adora was not ready, though who really could be ready to see a candelabra and a pendulum clock make their way into her cell of their own accord. Adora’s brain, once again, lost all function as she stood frozen with a bucket overhead.

“Hi, er… hello miss! Now don’t be alar-” and before the candelabra could finish her sentence the bucket went whooshing just past her, blowing out two of her wicks, and crashing against the wall of the hall outside the door. Adora, for her part, looked as equally shocked to have thrown it as the objects were. 

“Whoa, okay, hey it’s okay. No need to be scared, we’re here to help.” The clock had waddled forward and gingerly placed himself in front of the affronted light source who was currently reigniting herself.

“Scared? HA!” Adora let out the shaky forced laugh as her legs gave out and she sunk to her knees staring wide-eyed at the two pieces of talking houseware. “What’s to be scared of? It’s a normal day, haha, a monster locked my gran in a dungeon in a castle know one's heard of, and then she locked me in here and now… now I’m having a conversation with mantel decorations. Who could be scared?!” 

Adora’s voice cracked with her final question and she felt the tears return to her eyes and slowly start new trails down her cheeks.

“Hey, don’t cry, it’s okay!” The candelabra encouraged, moving closer to the girl seemingly unbothered by the attack moments prior. “It’s been a big day for you, it’s okay to be shaken. But we promise we’re here to help.” 

Adora found herself calming at the candelabra’s gentle cadence. The candelabra had an almost human design to her, a woman’s shapely figure donned in a dashing blouse and slacks with an intricate cape draped behind her, its pattern almost sparkling in her glow. Her whole body was a beautiful warm gold with her hand and head supporting the three candlesticks. She hadn’t noticed the details of her earlier, what with the rushing to find her grandmother and not being aware she had been holding a living thing and-

“Oh my gosh I’m so sorry,” Adora knelt forward to face the candelabra in earnest, “I gripped you so tight and just flung you around the halls. I’m so sorry, I had no idea!”

There was a momentary pause in the air before the candelabra and the clock burst out laughing. Adora merely stayed where she was, completely confused by living decor etiquette.

“You’re fine,” the candelabra finally managed, “that was probably the most exciting thing that’s happened around here in years!”

“Plus she kinda put herself right in the middle of things. I think if you hadn’t picked her up she would have started a fire to get your attention!” The clock smiled (could clocks smile?) up at Adora. For her part, Adora simply nodded slowly, eyes incapable of being any less wide.

“I’m Glimmer, and this is Bow,” said the candelabra as the two took their respective bows, “And we’re here to take you to your room!”

Adora looked between them both, processing as best she could. “Oh umm, hello. I’m Adora.” She stood and attempted a curtsey which was more of a stumbled shuffle. “But I thought I was supposed to stay in this cell for, well, forever. Right? The whole ‘a deals a deal’ thing?” She didn't miss the glance the two shared but they were already smiling and shuffling back towards the door.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Adora and don’t listen to her, she’s just… in a mood. A loud, hissy mood. She wants you to have a room, obviously!” Glimmer motioned for Adora to follow.

“And this place is pretty creepy,” the clock shuddered looking around the cell, “you don’t want to stay here do you?”

Adora did not want to stay in the cell, the idea of leaving the bleak stone hole of prison had nothing but appeal, and these two seemed genuinely friendly as far as talking candles and clocks went. She looked around once more than back at the grinning pair now beckoning from the hall. “Umm, yeah okay. If you’re sure?” 

With that, the pair began their journey out of the stoney cold grey of the dungeon and back to the dark corridors which Adora noted were much warmer by comparison. Turn after turn and up winding staircases, chatting as they went, (well mostly Glimmer and Bow chatted) Adora tried to take it all in. Adora found them a pleasant pair, even offering to carry them both, much to their shared glee. 

Still, even with the candelabra in hand and ticking clock cradled in her other arm, Adora observed an overarching theme of gloom in the castle with covered windows, low lights, and ripped paintings. 

As they approached a wider hallway, she noted a painting larger than the others and found herself stilled by the image. It was ripped, er clawed if she had to guess like all the paintings seemed to be but this was different. While the other art seemed to be victims of random gashings this painting had earned an intentional type of destruction.

From what remained, Adora could make out a family of three. Standing was what looked to be a father, his face was the only one unmarred, and Adora noted it seemed kind. His dark tan skin had a warmth to it, with a blush of his cheeks that spoke of days in the sun, perhaps wandering the garden outside when it had thrived. Did he like to read under trees as Adora did? Or maybe he enjoyed games or climbing trees? And his eyes, a striking sort of honey gold like a sunset, stared out from his smiling face under a poorly maintained mop of brown hair. Oddly… human. 

While what Adora knew of portraits such as these were limited, the process was a whole affair and for someone to have their hair painted as anything but stately seemed unheard of. But there he was, a happy mildly messy man beaming as he stood proudly beside his family. Adora liked him.

The rest of the portrait was not so lucky. It seemed the man’s wife took the worst of the abuse, her face completely eradicated by deep claw marks that seemed to have gone beyond the painting and its backing, all the way into the wall. From what Adora could see if her husband had been a warm summer day than she was a sunless winter month like what loomed over the castle. Her inky black hair looked smooth and glossy, neatly laying over her shoulder with no hint of a strand out of place. Dressed in a long maroon gown, the porcelain skin of her hands seemed to jump out in a way that seemed an intentional type of sickly. Like the women in her stories who were so concerned the sun might wrinkle them they avoided it entirely. 

And those hands appeared to reluctantly hold the last and smallest member of the family, so little that the claw marks inflicted on them practically erased them entirely. But Adora caught one surviving eye against that same beautiful warm brown skin from the man above. And like him, this eye was gold, though instead of honey Adora thought of a spark from a flint when starting a fire. The kind that catches even the strongest of kindling and spreads instantly, everyone weak to its warm mischief. Adora wanted to reach out to this child, they seemed so small… too small to deserve an attack.

“The Mistress isn’t all bad.” Bow’s gentle voice pulled Adora from her study of the family before her. She looked down at the clock in her arms and found him looking sad, something between pity and mournful. The rich mahogany of his frame seemed to slump in her arms, his little handles shaped like arrows crossed his front. The intricate hearts at the end of the hour and minute hands drooping down to the 6 on his face. Adora had never felt such a need to comfort a clock. “She’s had a hard go of it, and sometimes she acts out. But it’s not in a cruel way, it’s more like she doesn’t know what to do with it. Loneliness is...hard.” 

Slightly embarrassed by how she had plainly ignored her guides to gawk at the mangled art she turned and resumed their journey to her “room”. 

“Hey, that’s not for you to worry about, okay Adora?” Glimmer smiled at her; her voice, like Bow’s, held a soft concern that seemed to be for both Adora and her warden. “Besides, we’re almost there! See that door straight ahead? That’s you!”

Adora looked up at the grand door before her, a soft grey color lined with crawling vines of gold like a welcomed little archway. Gripping the handle she pushed forward and opened to a room that seemed like a sort of sprawling magnificent piece of art. The high vaulted ceiling was covered in soft clouds, the walls a soft cream lined with the same gold vines from outside, a bed that would take up half of her and Razz’s home, a magnificent maroon dresser in the corner and…

“Windows!” Adora rushed over to press her face against the cold glass and stare out into winter night, the moonlight making the snowy garden glow. It had been a whirlwind of a day but the sight of the outside world was a relief. 

She also took that moment to gauge just how high up she was, and maybe try and place where exactly in this enormous place she was. From where Adora looked out, she couldn’t see the front gate but she noted one of the bridges she had seen on her way in. As for how high, Adora looked down and found herself almost hit with a sense of vertigo. Escape would be a challenge.

She turned her attention back to her escorts who were bustling around her new room, Glimmer now bouncing around the bed (candles noticeably extinguished) doing flips in the air and beaming at Adora.

“So what do you think? This is the best guest room in the whole castle! Views of the gardens, great sunlight, and…”

“OH MY GOSH, A PRINCESS?!” Adora found herself still capable of surprise as the wardrobe that had been on the other side of the room just moments ago was now up close and towering over her. Bow suddenly appeared by her feet and began gently nudging the giant piece of furniture back.

“Adora, meet Scorpia. Scorpia, meet Adora.” The clock motioned between the two and Adora looked back up to see the wardrobe was practically bursting with delight at the mere sight of her.

“Uh, hello Scopira. It’s nice to meet you, I’m Ador-”

“Gosh aren’t you just the nicest! Absolutely sweet, and such a looker. I mean wow, we haven’t had a guest in so long and to have a princess like you? I mean, oh man, it is just so nice to meet you! I’m Scorpia and if you need anything, and I mean anything, you just say the word! Any friend of our wildcat is a friend of mine. Do you need a dress? A shirt? Socks? I have literally anything you need.” 

Adora took a moment to ponder if magical furniture needed to breathe the way humans do. 

“Scorpia is going to help you get ready for dinner!” Adora looked back to Bow as Glimmer appeared by his side, the two sharing another co-conspirator glance to each other before turning back to Adora.

“Uhh… dinner? Aren’t I a prisoner?” Adora was starting to wonder if she had misinterpreted how being held prisoner worked. Maybe in a castle things worked differently, or probably it was just here. Most castles didn’t have talking furniture as far as she knew.

Bow and Glimmer were practically out the door, bouncing and laughing with a gleeful flourish. “Oh don’t be silly, you’re a guest Adora!” the candelabra shouted as the doors began to close behind them, “Please just relax and settle in and we’ll be back to get you before you know it! Just let Scorpia know if you need anything!” 

And with that the two were gone, the door closed and locked. So much for not being a prisoner.

She slowly made her way to the bed and fell back onto the heavenly soft duvet, looking up again at the fluffy clouds covering the ceiling. 

“Hey… Scorpia?” She heard the creak and clamor of the wardrobe approaching the bed.

“Yeah? You okay? Can I get you anything? I can offer you pretty much any color of scarf you could want.” Adora laughed in spite of herself and turned to look at the wardrobe’s worried expression. 

Adora wasn’t a crier, she was more of a punch your feelings out type, but today had left her with a lot to process and little in the ways of an outlet. She hated the feeling of tears running down her face for what had to be the umpteenth time that day, but she was too tired to care.

“Scorpia, what’s gonna happen to me?” She reached into her pocket and withdrew her grandmother’s handkerchief, pulling it close to her face just to breathe it in with a shuddering breath.

“Well Adora,” Scorpia began, her voice quiet and tender, “I don’t know exactly what's gonna happen but it looks to me like you’ve had a long day. What I think you need is a nap, and when you wake up you can eat. Then maybe we can all help you figure that next part out, okay?”

Adora pulled the cloth away from her face to smile up at the kindly wardrobe, a little sigh escaping her exhausted body. 

“Thanks, Scorpia, I appreciate that.” And with that, she let herself sink down into the bed as her eyes fluttered shut. She would feel better when she woke up. She had to.

  
  


__________

“It’s a guest!” 

“What’s she like?”

“Did you see her?”

“I heard she’s beautiful!”

“I heard she’s brave!”

“I heard she stared Catra right in the eyes with no fear!”

“We have a guest!” 

The kitchen, much like the rest of the castle, was alive and bustling like it hadn’t been in years. Everyone was already smitten with the new arrival and the unspoken hope that maybe, just maybe, this girl could be the one. 

“Alright everybody listen up!” Glimmer commanded from atop a cutting board in the middle of the kitchen, quieting the room as they looked on in rapt attention to the Prince’s lady in waiting. 

“As we all know, we have a guest staying with us. Her name is Adora and she has had a rough day. It is our job to make her feel welcomed, special, and above all, so happy that she doesn’t try to run away.” The staff began to murmur amongst themselves casting nervous glances around the room, an anxious cloud steadily growing and overtaking the excitement of moments prior.

“I know what you’re all thinking,” Bow interjected from Glimmer’s side, “that this girl could break the spell, that she could be the one. Every day we lose a little more of ourselves, become a little less human…” He looked to Glimmer and reached out a handle to touch one of her lit candles. “We’re all scared but, this isn’t her job. We can’t make her do anything and it wouldn’t be fair to either of them if we try to force her.”

“I agree.” Spoke a warm evened tone. A teapot atop a rolling cart came forward and smiled at the others. “What we can do though, is make her feel at home. If there’s one thing I know it’s that we all can show her kindness and create a safe environment. If she feels safe, maybe she’ll feel open to giving Catra a chance, and Catra will be able to push back on all her negativity.”

“Exactly! Like Perfuma said, we are gonna make her feel at home and maybe, once they share a few bottles of wine, they’ll want to talk. No pressure just a friendly shove! Whose with me?!” The candelabra pumped a lit candle in the air and the room erupted in joyful reverie once more.

“Alright, so Double Trouble should have the table set by now and-”

Before Glimmer could finish her thought though, the feather duster appeared with a sort of panic rarely seen from the otherwise cool and elegant staff manager. They glided through the gathered houseware, weaving around everyone in a frenzied sort of waltz until they had reached Glimmer.

“Darling Glimmer, small problem. I had the staff almost done setting up what I must say was my best work as far as a dining aesthetic goes, almost an experience really.” Glimmer shot them a look. “Right, right, apologies. Well, you see, our ever calm and collected kitten may have walked in and noticed the additional setting and she may or may not have taken it poorly.”

If any of the staff were capable of having the color drain their faces, all would have gone a concerning white.

“How poorly?” Bow asked, but before Double Trouble could reply the answer provided itself in the form of the kitchen door bursting open as a seething Catra stood growling in the doorway.

“WHO INVITED THE PRISONER TO DINNER?”

__________

It had taken Catra almost 10 minutes to regain her composure, managing to avoid smashing any of the cookware or unlucky plates with the help of Perfuma’s stern and calming tone and the noted absence of Glimmer’s.

It was honestly a record, though the only one who would have noted that fact was a concerningly absent teacup.

Record aside, Catra had felt completely justified in her rage. One minute she has two strangers marching through her home and making demands. She finally settles on a prisoner, and the next thing she knows her staff has not only invited the thief’s daughter to dinner but apparently set her up in the biggest suite the East Wing has to offer. Was she the only one who understood what prisoner meant? When she had seen the extra table setting in the dining room, and noticed Double Trouble speedily sashay to the kitchen she knew what they were up to. 

It hadn’t escaped Catra that the girl was about her age and certainly her type, or at least had been when Catra had enjoyed the luxury of having one. She was beautiful, sure, that sunny head of blonde hair, her strong shoulders prominent through her dress, and those determined blue eyes that fixed on her with the severity of a storm at sea were enough to give Catra pause. 

But Catra had been drawn to something else about her. She was stubborn and unflinching, even though Catra had eventually shook her it seemed only to be after she had played her final card. She had also been so painfully inquisitive when she arrived, the way she had delicately approached every odd and end that caught her eye and stared at it with a sort of reverence. And rather than brutishly crashing through Cara’s home, Adora had treated it with as much care as a trespasser could. Adora was resilient, certainly stupid, but smart and painfully brave. 

Perhaps it was that last part, the bravery of a stranger with no reason to show any, that compelled Catra to consider her staff’s approach. To listen to them as they asked her to try and get to know the girl, to show her the side of Catra they all knew and cared for. To risk rejection from a prisoner in order to help not only herself but them as well. To swallow her pride and invite the girl to dinner.

So Catra conceded, she would not be outdone by some commoner. Which is how she found herself in front of the guest room door that held Adora, flanked by Glimmer, Bow, and Perfuma, watching her with aggressively positive smiles. She shuddered at their well-meaning support, that level of positivity had never been Catra’s strong suit.

Nevertheless, she took a deep breath, gave the door two loud raps with her knuckle, and waited.

Despite the years of waiting for her curse to consume her entirely, Catra had yet to master the patience for waiting. To be frank, she hadn't mastered patience either. Were they the same thing? After 1 minute unanswered, she glared down at Glimmer and made an exaggerated motion she hope translated “Well now what?”

“Just try again miss,” Perfuma whispered, “and be gentle.”

Catra rolled her eyes and rapped on the door again.

“Uh… who is it?” A small voice sounded from behind the door.

“You expecting someone princess?” Catra heard the words leave her mouth before she even thought to think them. She ignored what was clearly the sound of Bow smacking the space his forehead would be.

Catra heard rustling but no response from the other side of the door. She cleared her throat and straightened up.

“I’m here to request you join me for dinner.” She looked to see Glimmer motion for her to say more. “Umm, now?”

Another forehead smack from Bow, he’d crack his glass at this rate.

“Excuse me? You want me to join you for dinner? Are you insane?! You locked my grandmother in a cell and are holding me prisoner and you want me to join you for dinner?!” The girl had gotten closer to the door, and her tone was getting angrier by the syllable. 

“Oh, I’m sorry princess, I didn’t realize you’d prefer to starve. Do forgive me! And you know, you’ve got some nerve acting all high and mighty when your thieving granny got you into this situation, not me!”

“Stop calling me princess you jerk! You locked an old woman in a dungeon over a rose! A life sentence for a flower! Who does that? Why would anyone want to eat with you?!”

Catra was now up against the door, hoping her absolute rage over this girl’s disrespect was seeping through and poisoning the air. 

“Fine! You don’t want to eat with me? Great! If you don’t eat with me you don’t eat all!”

“FINE!” Adora shouted back through the thin wood barrier. 

“GREAT!” And with that Catra spun on her heels and stormed off down the hall, dragging her nails along the walls and snarling all the way.

Glimmer, Bow, and Perfuma watched her go then turned to each other, letting loose the collective breath they’d been holding. This was going to be harder than they had hoped.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be honest, every chapter that isn't the two of them painfully attempting to flirt is hard to write because that's all I want; just useless lesbians flirting in a castle. But I promise you the next chapter is gonna be way more action. 
> 
> We've got dinner, meeting the rest of our enchanted crew (including a mayhem seeking teacup and her enchanted spinning plate), some angst, and then WOLF SCENE. 
> 
> Heavens, do I love a rescue. See you next week!


	3. What's in the West Wing?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After yet another less than stellar run-in with the prince, Adora meets more of the castle's residents and does some ill-advised exploring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back! This chapter was so fun to write I cranked it out in a couple of days. I hope you enjoy meeting more familiar faces :)

Adora had woken up to worse. One time when she was 12 she had decided she would make a pie unsupervised and surprise Razz when she got back. Pulling everything together had seemed to go well enough. She wasn’t confident she hadn’t mixed up the salt and sugar at one point but the berries were sweet enough, right? With her creation in the oven and beaming with pride from a job well done, she grabbed her book and tucked into the little reading nook Razz had helped her make under the kitchen window. The danger of such a cozy nook in the middle of the day, especially one that has the smell of cooking berries wafting through the air, is it can make anyone a little sleepy. And so, as you may have guessed, Adora fell asleep only to wake up a few hours later to the smell of smoke and the sight of Razz running back and forth with buckets of water attempting to extinguish the small fire.

This, however, was still top-ranked for unpleasant awakenings. Something, some noise, had roused Adora and she thought for a moment that perhaps she had awoken into another dream. One with fluffy clouds above and below her and the faint smell of lavender. But before Adora could sink back into the gentle sky she had found herself in, there was a knock at the door that brought her back to her situation. 

Adora was a prisoner. A prisoner in a castle that was somehow in the middle of an unseasonal winter and inhabited by talking clocks and wardrobes and beasts.

“Uh… who is it?” Adora called out, hoping it was the exuberant candelabra from earlier or the comforting clock. But with a quick glance to the wardrobe anxiously teetering side to side, she guessed who it was.

“You expecting someone princess?” A snarky voice rasped from the other side of the door. Adora felt a spark of something teetering between fury and panic shoot down her spine at the attempted teasing. 

“I’m here to request you join me for dinner.” With the events of today still rushing through her brain, anxiety and anger were flooding her veins once more. She was joking, right? This warden, this “prince”, that had stripped her of her freedom only hours earlier wanted her to… have dinner?

Adora would have laughed had she not been so absolutely gobsmacked by the notion.

Before she could respond with a resounding, “Never in a million years,” the raspy voice returned with a hesitant “Umm, now?” and that was where the situation had all decidedly gone downhill. 

Adora was no longer in the driver seat as her justified anger took over, storming up to the door to give her captor the what for and finding the indignation had returned tenfold. The end result was the sound of the prince storming off and making a ruckus in her wake while Adora stood huffing and puffing, the retreating adrenaline leaving her exhausted all over again. She sighed and returned to the bed, sitting back with her legs crossed and her head resting in her hands.

“Heeeey there Adora,” came the quiet voice of Scorpia who seemed unsure if Adora was going to snap at her as well. Adora looked up and tried to give her a reassuring smile. It wasn’t her fault she was locked in some tower.

“Hey Scorpia, umm sorry about that. I uh, I guess I kinda got a little-” before she could finish the grand wardrobe was upon her.

“Oh gosh Adora, don’t apologize! Catra is, well, she’s a little rough around the edges but she’s not a bad person. She’s just not good at showing that. But she shouldn’t have gotten mad at you like that, okay? Can I get you something? Oh, you know I have a cloak in here that feels just like a big hug. I was a big hugger back in the day…” the wardrobe stopped and her eyes went somewhere else as she smiled at the faraway thing, “...Yeah, I loved a good hug.”

Adora was on her feet instantly, awkwardly wrapping her arms as far as she could around the living wardrobe. Scorpia gasped then gave a little laugh. “Aww geez, thanks, Adora.”

Adora looked up at her and hoped it had helped. She didn’t really understand what had happened here, but from what she had seen and heard she sensed that this place was not always filled with talking furniture and a brooding cat beast. The castle had an ache to it, under all its doom and gloom and dark corners, something hurt and broken sat at the center of it all. 

She opened her mouth to ask Scorpia just what had happened to her, to all of them, when she felt a rustling from her petticoat pocket and jumped back. Before she had time for any other type of response a teacup poked out of her pocket and grinned up at her.

“Hi there, you’re new. So fascinating to meet you. I was wondering if you had anything more interesting on your person? I wanted to check your travel bags but no one would tell me where your horse was. Anyway, how would you describe the atmosphere when you arrived?”

“Uhhh…” Adora looked between the inquisitive teacup and Scorpia who seemed a little flustered, apparently as surprised as Adora by her sudden appearance. “Umm, kinda spooky I guess?”

The teacup arched an eyebrow and squinted up at Adora like she had just uttered something so ridiculous it was incomprehensible. 

“Spooky? I’m sorry, I don’t believe I’m familiar with that weather metric. Anyway, if you don’t have anything else in your pockets do you have any idea where your horse is? I haven’t gotten to test my theories on a living animal in so long!” Adora continued to stare down, slack-jawed as the teacup seemed to lose further interest in her. “Okay, well, don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll find it! I have a list of all of Bow’s ticks to tell if he’s lying and I have two new theories for Glimmer’s!” 

Adora registered Scorpia’s laugh to herself, “Ticks, haha, oh boy that's a good one.”

She was about to ask the teacup’s name when she gave a whistle from Adora’s pocket and she heard a small commotion outside the door. Apparently, someone had been listening in? But the voices gasped and then Adora noticed a small plate, one meant for a teacup, came sliding under the door then propped itself upright as though gravity meant nothing. It rolled straight towards Adora and with a gleeful cry of “Emily!”, she watched the teacup leap from her pocket and land perfectly balanced atop the spinning plate. 

Seconds later the door opened and Bow came into the room accompanied by a teapot atop a little rolling cart.

“Entrapta, would you mind helping me offer our guest some tea? I think she might appreciate having something calming to sip on.” The teapot smiled down at the teacup who seemed to have paused her spinning plate to consider the suggestion.

“Hmm, I suppose.” The teacup squinted up at Adora like she was studying her then turned back to the teapot. “Based on her coloring, inconsistent breathing patterns, and fluctuation of emotional range I suspect she’s suffering from adrenal fatigue. She’ll need something decaffeinated so as not to upset her heart rate.” 

“Hmm, I see, then perhaps a rooibos blend?” The teapot turned her attention back to Adora with a serene smile. “Tell me, Adora, do you like cranberry?” Adora nodded dumbly as the teapot and Entrapta collaborated on a mixture then poured the bright brown steaming liquid into the teacup herself. “Go ahead dear, but be sure to blow on it first.”

Adora hesitated for a moment, unsure how she felt about drinking from sentient glassware. But both of them looked at her expectantly so she tenderly reached down for the cup, blew on the steam, and took a sip. It was lovely, and for a moment she just closed her eyes and allowed herself the simple comfort. She could feel her heartbeat returning to a normal state for the first time since waking only a few minutes prior. Had it only been that long?

“Let me know if you like it, we can always make you something else if you like.”

Adora shook her head and gave a smile that she hoped conveyed her gratitude for the kindness. “This is wonderful, thank you both.” 

Entrapta gave a confident, “Of course!” and the teapot beamed.

“This is Perfuma,” Bow spoke up, “between her and Entrapta they can make you the perfect blend of tea for anything you’re feeling.”

“And Perfuma grows all these herbs herself! I mean you’d think it’d be hard to do with no hands but she does it. It’s just amazing Adora, I mean, uh, you know it’s just really nice and all.” Scorpia seemed to have been made embarrassed by her own gushing but Adora was just enjoying the company of all these friendly faces. She didn’t recall a time she had been in the company of so many people and felt unjudged. 

In fact, while she may have once again found herself the oddity in the crowd as a human amongst enchanted houseware, she felt unusually accepted. Everyone had been so excited to meet her, and when she spoke, no one seemed to like her less for it. They had all been so welcoming… Well, almost everyone.

“Everything’s ready!” The pleasant communal chatter was interrupted by the return of Glimmer and her glowing enthusiasm standing in the doorway.

“Ready? Ready for what?” Another ‘enchanted objects only’ conspiratorial look was shared before Glimmer turned her attention back to Adora.

“Why your dinner of course!” Adora noted that everyone’s eyes were on her, smiling brightly.

“But I thought that I wasn’t allowed to… eat?” Adora hadn’t really thought out the long term implications of that statement. If her captor held to it then her life sentence would be much shorter than expected.

“Oh don’t listen to her, she’s just being dramatic. She does that when things don’t go her way, all hiss and no scratch. Besides, we’ve pulled out all the stops just for you!” Glimmer began hopping backward, motioning for Adora to follow.

“...for me?” A small voice in Adora’s head screamed that it was a trap. No one but Razz had ever done anything special for her. Adora didn’t get special treatment except for maybe at the little library back home. But as she looked around she didn’t see any malice or hint of a joke. In fact, they all seemed excited. 

“Of course for you Adora. Everyone’s excited you’re here. It’s taken everything we have to keep everyone else from bursting in here.” Adora believed the sincerity in Bow’s voice and smiled at the gentle pressure of one of his handles patting her skirt.

And so Adora let herself be led to dinner, dazed to find that she was becoming less upset at being a prisoner. After all, she hadn’t had friends before.

__________

Dinner was an event. No, it was a spectacle. It was unlike anything Adora had ever seen before and she sat in a wide-eyed trance as wonder after wonder seemed to dance in and out of her vision.

Glimmer and Bow ushered her into a tall-backed chair at the end of an impossibly long table in an impossibly large dining room. Adora had barely enough time to wonder how anyone could eat and not feel entirely alone in such a space before the lights dimmed and an array of candles had slowly lit to life around her. 

Music began to play somewhere close behind her as a piano had wheeled itself in, seemingly out of nowhere. A man’s voice came bellowing forth from it in what first sounded like some sailor’s sea shanty but with a strongly whispered, “Sea Hawk, no!” his singing stopped and the melody changed to something grand.

Adora’s attention had come back to the table before her where Glimmer was making a grand introduction to this evening’s presentation of “Your Dinner!” From there Adora’s attention jumped from sight to sight. Entrapta came rushing round the corner, balancing atop her spinning plate followed by a series of other plates as they zipped and whirled around her in an organized but manic parade. 

Next Bow and Glimmer performed a sort of waltz (which actually looked quite graceful considering the limitations of their anatomy) while Adora attempted enough focus to eat the stew in front of her. As soon as they were done, the stew was swept away and replaced by a full plate of meat, potatoes, and bright green vegetables which she greedily dug into. 

She was halfway through inhaling the meal when a cake was placed in the center of the table, and Adora nearly choked as a strikingly elegant emerald-handled feather duster burst out from the top. They had begun sauntering towards her while an array of silverware spun and bowed creating an aisle of fanfare before the duster stopped and broke into a dramatic monologue. 

All of this ended in a roaring musical number that seemed shockingly coordinated for an impromptu dinner but Adora felt that maybe this wasn’t just for her benefit. The collection of housewares and decor seemed to be having a wonderful time, all of them smiling and bouncing around. Adora felt such a warm affection for them all, smiling as she chewed the last bite of some sort of confectionary grey stuff.

Despite their protests post-performance, Adora insisted she help clean up where she could. She proved herself useful at reaching high things and helped put away the leftover cake that had apparently been made exclusively for the feather duster named Double Trouble’s entrance. They had all been surprised at her insistence it be preserved, but Adora was not one to waste anything. 

Finally, Adora found herself heading to bed, accompanied by the piano named Sea Hawk and Perfuma on her rolling cart. Sea Hawk insisted Adora see the ballroom, partially to take in the splendid room he resided in but mostly to see his one true love; an exquisitely beautiful chandelier named Mermista. 

The chandelier had groaned when they entered, “Ughhh Perfuma why did you bring him back? I haven’t had a moment of quiet in years.” 

The piano plowed through, either not hearing or not caring about her grumbling lament. “Adora this is my muse, my beacon of hope in these dark times, the beauty who has taken my heart captive though I dare not ever break free for love is my jailor!”

“Hi, Adora. Ignore him, he’s embarrassing.” And though her tone was flat and Adora struggled to process her expression (her face seemed to be at the top of the elaborate light fixture), Adora had noticed the way the room had gotten brighter when the piano wheeled in.

“Heard your little song and dance, sorry I couldn’t join, being stuck to the ceiling and all. Surprised she didn’t hear you up in the West Wing, you all were lucky.” Sea Hawk dove into a grand retelling of the evening’s performance but Adora’s brain was already wandering elsewhere. The West Wing, that must be where Catra hid away. She’d noticed that in all her guided marches about the castle, her escorts had gone to great lengths to avoid the West Wing entirely. Save for her time in the dungeons, she hadn’t gone near the area since.

“Well, it’s about time we head to bed. Are you ready Adora?” Perfuma’s lilting voice pulled Adora from her wonderings and she smiled at the two ballroom residents.

“Right, it was lovely meeting you both. And thank you Sea Hawk for tonight’s music, I’d love to hear one of your shanties sometime!”

As she and Perfuma left she could still hear the sounds of Mermista’s “Ugh” resounding off the ballroom walls as Sea Hawk began what sounded like a shanty about the “Queen of the sea of his love”. Once they were far enough away she finally let loose the giggle she had been holding back and was surprised to hear Perfuma do the same. 

“Those two are always like that. Mermista pretends he bothers her, but I know she's grateful to have him there with her. I know it can be hard on those of us who aren’t as mobile…” Perfuma got that sad sort of faraway smile on her face Adora had seen a few times today. Adora saw an opportunity.

“Perfuma, what happened to you all?” They had stopped at the base of the grand staircase, Adora anxiously picking at the skin of her nails. She saw the teapot sigh and look up at her with those kind eyes.

“Adora, it’s very sweet of you to care. But we all agreed that this isn’t something for you to worry about. What happened here, it’s something we all have to live with but that burden isn’t for you. All we ask of you is to be yourself, okay?” Not the answer Adora had hoped for, but she was once again overwhelmed by the unwarranted kindness.

“Okay, Perfuma. Thank you, umm I’ll do my best with that then.”

“I’m sure you will Adora, I have no doubts. Now, off to bed with you and tell Scorpia goodnight for me?” And with that, the teapot rolled away towards the kitchen leaving Adora at the bottom of the stairs she had climbed this morning. It felt like a lifetime ago. All she had to do now though was go up the stairs, turn right, and follow the candles Glimmer had left lit to guide her through the East Wing back to her room and sleep. And Adora was exhausted. What time was it? From what she could see through the windows it was night but it certainly had to be well past midnight.

Going to bed made sense. Turning right made sense. But there she was, grabbing a candle from its perch and turning left. Intentionally going where she was certain she shouldn’t. She couldn’t help it. Adora wanted to know more, she wanted to help, and maybe whatever was there could help her understand. And also… Catra might be there.

While Adora wasn’t eager to run into the castle’s least welcoming resident she couldn’t help but wonder. The creature who had stood gloating on the other side of her cell door seemed entirely separate from the entity that had invited her to dinner. Neither encounter had ended well but even Adora had noted the change in tone. That scene following Adora’s rejection was more angry and embarrassed than evil rage. Plus everyone seemed to hold a fondness for her, from Scorpia’s exuberant love to the practiced type of patience she sensed from Glimmer and Bow. 

Plus there was something about her eyes that Adora couldn’t let go of. The way that yellow seemed so familiar but small, like the spark before the fire. How it’s counter blue was less frightening in Adora’s memory and more like an ocean at high tide when you shouldn’t swim. How the water would come right up to you, climbing up the sand in the hopes of pulling you in. 

Maybe whatever was in the West Wing could answer Adora’s questions, or at least help her solidify what those questions should be.

So Adora wandered, looking for signs that told her she was close to something or an indication that there was an important clue waiting for her to notice it. After one particular turn down another dark hall, she began to notice the walls were increasingly scratched up. It was as though a wrecking ball of claws and talons had come crashing through, bouncing off the walls. She was definitely close to something, and as she approached a giant collection of curtains, drapes, and heavy cloths draped against a wall she felt that calm resolve in her pause.

Clearly, this was significant. There was something under all of this, purposely hidden away, and when Adora pressed her palm to the dark collection of wall hangings she was surprised to find there was no wall behind them but an opening. She continued to push forward, weaving her hand between each hanging meant to warn her to do the opposite. 

Soon she had created a way through for her and her candle to pass safely onwards and she found herself in another stone hall that was somehow grander and darker than where she had been. As she wandered, she felt like she was in a spooky sort of storybook taking in the majesty her little candle brought out from the shadows. Statues, paintings, chests that seemed almost bursting with china, and beautifully bound books strewn about leaving Adora almost tempted to cease her wanderings and simply sit and marvel. 

And under most circumstances, Adora would have caved to her unending appetite for anything beyond the small world she had known this morning. But today was different, today she had found herself in the middle of a mystery surrounded by an endless collection of unmatched discoveries. She had met talking furniture and that was somehow not the most intriguing part of her day. So brave, determined, and unaware, Adora continued on.

She continued on until she noticed something glowing up ahead. At first, she froze for fear it was a light and someone else was near, but when no movement came she found her footing once more. As she grew closer Adora realized the light ahead wasn’t a light at all but a rose. Her breath caught at the sight of it, glowing and floating like something from the heavens and not of this world at all. And it called to her like it knew she was there, encouraging each step forward until she was so close she saw her breath fog the glass dome. Adora was completely entranced and felt her breath hitch as she watched a petal shake at her arrival then fall away, a light flutter to the pedestal beneath.

Had Adora not been under the spell of the flower she would have likely noticed where she was. She would have noticed the bed off to her right, the lump in the middle of it, the sound of the lump moving as though it heard a disturbance. Adora would not have missed the shifting of sheets as the awakened form saw her breath fog the glass and the horrified hiss at the sight of a petal falling. But Adora did not miss the feeling of her body being shoved as a loud and feral growl rang through the room.

Her body shot backward as she stumbled into what must have been a dresser, her side stinging at the impact. With a groan, she tried to regain her focus but was instead yanked by her dress collar and staring into the wide and positively enraged eyes of Catra. Catra whose breathing was ragged and shaking like she was so angry it made her incapable of pulling a full breath of air. Adora was still unsure of what was happening, one minute she had been looking at a flower and now she was once again on the wrong side of Catra’s rage.

“WHAT DID YOU DO?” Catra growled at her, her grip on Adora’s collar tightening as she pulled her closer.

“I… I didn’t do anything! I was just looking around and I saw, I’m sorry I didn’t-” 

“GET OUT!” Catra threw the girl back again and hissed, hackles raised and claws twitching for an outlet. Adora thought of the wreckage in the hall just outside. She flinched as she stumbled back, nearly tripping over herself; Catra continued to stalk forward with the menace of her steps not lost in Adora's panic.

“I’m sorry.” Adora breathed out before a sound ripped through Catra that filled her veins with ice as it echoed down the halls behind Adora. It wasn’t a human sound, it was simply the sound of unleashed fury. And Adora knew it was time to run.

With her wits gathered, she sprinted through the dark halls, candle long forgotten as the sounds of Catra’s shrieks and howls chased her still. She had to get out, she had to leave. Whatever this was, it wasn’t for her to solve. She was just a girl from a small village who had read too many books. Her stupid imagination had fed her ego and landed her on the receiving end of Catra’s rage, putting herself in danger. Stupid stupid Adora. What could someone like her do? She shook her head as she kept sprinting until she found the front hall once more and bolted towards the door.

“Adora! Wait, where are you going?”

“What happened! Are you alright?”

“What’s going on?”

Adora paused to see Glimmer, Bow, Perfuma, and a few others had gathered in the hall to see what the commotion was. They all looked so worried, it hurt her heart. She thought she could help and she just made things worse. And they knew it, as Catra’s cries managed to reach the hall. They knew Adora had done something and they knew she was running.

“I’m so sorry but I… I have to go. I’m sorry.” She reached for the handle and began to pull.

“Adora wait, you can’t go now!” Glimmer came forward, a desperate plea in her voice. “Adora, it’s not safe out there at this time of night. We have your horse, we can get him ready for you in the morning. It’s dangerous so please, please just wait till morning.” But Adora couldn’t, her brain so deeply drowned in her own failings and how she had disappointed them. She couldn’t bear it a moment longer.

“I’m so sorry.” And with that, Adora opened the door and ran out into the night with no cloak, no supplies, no horse. Just the guilt of her actions and fear driving her forward.

__________

Catra was sitting on the floor of her room, head in her hands, mumbling and shaking with adrenaline when Glimmer and Bow found her. 

“What the hell happened?!” Glimmer’s admonishment had been expected but she couldn’t help the small cringe that came from hearing it. She had lost her temper. Not just lost it, she had… she’d hurt the girl. She’d seen her standing in her room and been so captivated by the very presence of Adora that she had only noticed too late where her focus was. And when the petal had fallen… it was always hard when one fell but, doubled with the proximity Adora had to it, Catra had only seen red. She hadn’t meant to be like that. Catra wasn’t like that… she looked at her clawed hands with bitter disdain before daring to look up at the candelabra and clock.

“She came in here while I was sleeping and she touched the glass. When I woke up she was right there and…” she bit her lip struggling with the next words, “...a petal fell.” She heard the sharp intake of breath from them both. She hated telling them that, the way it always reminded her how she continued to fail them. “I got angry, she wasn’t supposed to even be here. Why was she even in here?!” She looked back to them pleadingly. 

“Catra,” Bow began, using his gentle dad-type voice that Catra loathed the effectiveness of. “I understand being upset, but you can’t do that. That’s not who you are.”

“Don’t you think I know that?!” She shot back. Why wouldn’t they just leave her to wallow?

“Catra,” he began again, “this is serious.” She sniffed back something that certainly wasn’t a tear, and avoided eye contact. 

“Yeah I know, I’ll say something to her tomorrow when she-”

“She’s gone Catra, Adora was so scared she ran away.” Catra’s ears went flat, her eyes grew wide, as she jerked her head to look at Glimmer. 

“...gone?” Her voice was so small, she hated it.

“Yes, Catra. Gone. And what’s worse, she ran out into the woods with no cloak, no horse, no supplies.” Catra’s mouth went dry. No no no, that girl was too smart for that. Catra had told her to leave but she hadn’t meant this. This was just plain stupid, she’d be killed before she made it a mile.

Catra was up and moving before she realized it, her body acting of its own accord. By the time her brain caught up to her, she was walking down the halls, then running, then on all fours bolting right through the front door and into the inky blackness of the night. 

‘Idiot’, she thought as the forest floor crunched beneath her. She wasn’t sure which of them she meant, but the idea of the blonde out in the woods alone, frightened, and certainly lost, propelled her forward. She stayed on the main path for the most part, occasionally leaping upon a low hanging branch to see if she could catch sight of her target. 

Adora couldn’t see as well as her but she would have been able to make out the path with the moon overhead and Catra was confident she'd easily outpace her even on two legs. But still, ten or so minutes in and Catra was beginning to worry. Either Adora was more athletic than she assumed or… Catra shook the thought from her head. She hadn’t smelled blood and hadn’t spotted any signs of trouble. Adora was still out there.

Catra kept her pace and refused to let the dark thoughts slow her down, sprinting forward and leaning into the rare opportunity to use her curse to her advantage. But it was her ears that gave Catra her first clue and made her blood run cold. She heard a low growl up ahead, and the sound of paws rushing to meet it sounded off to her left from the cover of the forest. And then another sound up ahead, a crack followed by a whimper. Pushing herself as hard as she could she heard another cracking sound, this time accompanied by a panicked shriek, and growls. 

As the sounds came into view Catra saw Adora backed against the wall of a rock formation, waving a large tree branch in front of her as 3 wolves inched closer; teeth bared and ready to jump. The limp bodies of two wolves laid a little aways from the scene- the blonde had held her own so far. She would have stopped to be impressed but the middle wolf lurched forward to grab the branch in its mouth and tug. Adora stumbled but refused to loosen her grip on her only weapon and the wolf on the right took the opening.

Or it tried to. Because before it could land within an inch of Adora, Catra let loose a loud snarl and flung her body into it and sent them both crashing to the ground. With the wolf caught off guard, she jumped to her feet, gripped the animal before sending it flying into the trunk of a nearby tree, and then positioned herself between Adora and the two remaining wolves. Odd, she could have sworn she heard another one. 

The wolf gripping Adora’s branch had relented, shocked by the attack on its fellow from this new enemy. Catra stood tall and growled at them, claws unsheathed and stance ready for combat. She heard Adora behind her, gasping from exertion and maybe the shock of seeing Catra there but Catra’s foremost thought was that she didn’t smell blood on the girl. Adora was okay. Good.

Both wolves made their move on her, jumping in a coordinated effort to overthrow this new obstacle. She just had to keep them away from Adora. Catra was strong in this form of hers, and her senses were sharper than any human’s, but she still wasn’t used to fighting. As she focused on one wolf she felt the teeth of the other sink into her left arm as she cried out in pain. But she fought through it, the three of them in some sort of continuous loop of biting and scratching that was starting to wear her down. She finally beat one, ignoring the warm potent red slick now coating her arm; Catra couldn’t tell whose blood was whose anymore. With her focus now narrowed she was able to take on the remaining wolf. Already weakened, it put up less of a fight and with one slash to its chest it ran off whimpering.

She did it. Sinking to her knees, she allowed the exhaustion to sink in, replacing the adrenaline now leaving her body like a ghost finally exorcised. Her thoughts returned to Adora behind her but before she could turn she heard that sound again, that sound of paws from the forest, and felt the sting of teeth clamp down on her right shoulder as she was tackled to the dirt. 

She cried out in pain, the wolf’s teeth tearing into her flesh as her senses were overwhelmed by the feeling of blood running down her chest. It started to go dark, keeping her eyes open was impossible. But as quickly as it had started, it stopped with a sick crack followed by a limp thud above her, the wolf’s teeth gone, and Catra free to fully collapse. 

And then there were hands on her, turning her over and tracing over the areas that ached. There was a voice too, it was saying her name and asking her questions. Did it sound worried? Fighting a powerful urge to surrender to the comfort of unconsciousness, she cracked her eyes, to stare up at the voice. She was surprised to find it was Adora, the blood loss was not treating her well. 

With a raspy cough, Catra managed to give the blonde a smirk and a breathy, “Hey, Adora.”

“There you are! Hey, hey Catra, you scared me!” Adora was smiling, a sort of strained relief flooded her features. How nice that looked. Catra hadn’t seen a smile like that in years. Oh, Adora was talking again. “Can you stay awake for me, please? I need you to help me a little okay?”

Oooh helping sounded hard. Catra heard the siren song of sleep calling her once more but the look of concern on Adora’s face was more motivating than it should have been. She could stay focused a little longer. Besides, they were still far from the safety of the castle and Catra was their best defense. She took a deep breath and tried to prop herself up, yelping at the angry sting of the wound on her arm, and collapsed back to the ground. 

“Easy! Okay, hold on.” She heard some shuffling and felt Adora move towards the top of her head, carefully sliding one hand under her uninjured shoulder and the other under the top of her spine easing her up until the warmth of Adora was pressed against her back. “Catra,” the warmth spoke, her ears twitched at the feeling of Adora’s breath ghosting over them. “I’m going to try to lift you alright? It might hurt a little but I promise once you’re up it’ll be easier and then we’ll go straight to the castle. Does that sound good?” 

All it took was a small nod from Catra and Adora made her move. Wasting no time, Adora shifted to Catra’s side and slipped one arm under her legs and the other behind her back, lifting the injured hybrid up into a bridal carry. Catra gave a little whine of protest at the jostling but once Adora adjusted her grip and began the march back, she was able to settle, resting her head against Adora’s chest. She felt so delirious but she understood the need to stay conscious for as long as possible.

This girl was indeed stronger than Catra had given her credit for, or maybe… maybe Catra was smaller than she thought she was. She certainly felt small. Bleeding and tired, Catra couldn’t help but sink into the comfort of being held, memorizing the sensations around her. The sound of Adora’s heart beating, a soothing soft metronome, was working as hard as its host to carry them home. Her breathing was steady, quiet, and calm in spite of the extra cargo in her arms. And there was Adora’s intoxicating scent; sweat, turmeric, and vanilla wafted off the woman and steadily filled Catra’s nostrils with something akin to peace. How warm it was, how much more of it she wanted. 

She moved her head so she could nuzzle her nose into the crook of Adora’s neck. Just a little bit more, she just needed to breathe in enough of this smell so she could drown in its comfort. Catra heard Adora’s breath catch and the momentary jerk of surprise, but it was just a moment. She didn’t recoil from her or scold her and Catra was so tired that she couldn’t bring herself to think beyond this unspoken allowance. It had been so long since Catra felt peace like this, the blood loss and fatigue keeping her usual feelings of shame and self-loathing from charging to the forefront to ruin everything.

“Hey, Catra, I see the towers above the trees. We’re almost there, just hang on okay?” Adora whispered, gripping the hybrid a little closer to her.

“Okay Adora,” Catra whispered back before finally slipping into sleep.   
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOLF SCENE  
> All I wanted was to start writing them and now I can and I am so excited.
> 
> Special crazy huge magical thanks to @Pandoras_hope for volunteering to beta this story! I don't think I could have gotten this chapter out so quickly without them and honestly, that cuddly carrying was made immensely better by their notes.  
> So ROUND OF APPLAUSE.
> 
> Anyway, I'm already chugging through the next chapter so I'll see you soon!


	4. Some Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adora and Catra make it back to the castle and enjoy some rest after a very intense day of imprisoning and bickering and wolf attacks.

Adora wasn’t two steps through the door before she was inundated with questions from what appeared to be a mass gathering of the castle’s residents. The panic-stricken looks on their faces sent a pang of guilt to Adora’s heart as she looked down at the bloody mess of Catra curled in her arms. Catra had passed out not too far from the castle gates and Adora had done everything she could to focus on keeping her pace even though her legs were shaking and aching with exhaustion.

Adora had heard the wolves before she saw them. Blinded with fear, panic, and shame she had run into the night without thinking and was rewarded for her actions appropriately. Grabbing a nearby branch she had held her own, swinging with intent and taking out the first two to come at her. But there were more and Adora realized she was cornered with no chance of outrunning them. Adora took a swing at the wolf closest to her only for it to catch the branch in its mouth rendering her defense useless. 

She thought of Razz back at home, tucked away safely in their warm little cottage, and how she would never see her again. She was going to die in these woods… would anyone even find her? A t the sound of another wolf moving to strike the defenseless target, Adora shut her eyes and willed her last thought to be of eating pie with Razz.

However, that was not the case, because the next thing she knew she heard a familiar snarl and the sound of two bodies colliding into the dirt. Adora opened her eyes to find Catra, throwing the animal like it was a child’s rag doll into a tree trunk and then moving in front of Adora. Panting and growling, Catra moved to a fighting stance and flashed her claws at the remaining pack in an unmistakable invitation for confrontation. Catra was… protecting her?

Adora watched, dumbfounded, and slack-jawed, as Catra and wolves fought in a flurry of bloody fur and yelps. When she saw one land a particularly nasty bite on Catra’s arm, Adora drew her branch up towards her chest, uncertain if she could actually help but ready nonetheless. 

Catra held her own though, she was faster than the wolves and their teamwork was no match for her ferocious agility. As the last wolf ran off she watched Catra sink to her knees, silhouetted by moonlight. Adora thought she looked like some sort of bloodied fairytale knight, fearless and foolish, basking in a moment of respite after vanquishing the monster. Adora made to move, almost in a daze at the scene before her, only for it to be ripped apart by a final adversary. 

Catra screamed as the wolf, appearing from nowhere like a vengeful spirit, leapt onto her back and clamped its jaw onto her shoulder. And she wasn’t getting up. She was too tired to fight this enemy, she was hardly struggling. Catra wasn’t strong enough for this final foe. 

Adora was. In a matter of seconds, Adora had lunged forward and willed all of her anger, fear, and emotional turmoil of the day into striking the wolf across the back; the sick thump made the beast go limp and fall off its prey. Adora used her weapon to push it further away like some disgusting mess she didn’t want to touch before discarding the branch and turning her attention to Catra.

Gently as she could, she rolled her over to find Catra lifeless and panting like she lacked the energy for a full inhale. And she was bloody, so so bloody. Adora looked over Catra’s arm and shoulder where the wolves had left the worst damage. The wounds were deep and the blood was continuing its slow spread across her shaking frame. She needed medical attention, and while the forest was warmer than the castle’s winter it was still cold. Adora looked towards the direction of home, still so far away but this was the closest she’d get. 

“Catra?” She spoke gently, hoping her voice came off calm and collected and not like the voice in her head. That voice was currently screaming a litany of words reserved for house fires and run-ins with Prime. No response from Catra, that wasn’t good. “Catra, can you hear me? Hey, I need you to open your eyes okay? Please Catra,” her voice was losing its confidence, “please wake up. You have to wake up.” 

Somehow, despite a day consisting of mostly bad luck, Adora was granted a win as two shining orbs of yellow and blue cracked open and looked up to take in the disturbance. Catra looked terrible yet somehow managed to smirk up at the blonde with a breathy “Hey, Adora” and Adora found herself smiling as relief flooded through her. If she could manage that, she could make it home.

It took some maneuvering to get Catra sitting up and by that point, Adora knew walking was out of the question. Looking over the hybrid’s bloody frame Adora was struck by how small she was, a stark contrast to the looming shadow that had sent her into speechless shock in the dungeons. Catra was surprisingly lean, her lithe figure had been hidden under a cloak and shadows prior but now she sat before Adora in a flowy (formerly white now dyed in crimson) blouse and form-fitting black pants. As she leaned back against her, Adora was struck that this version of Catra, paired with the one who had risked her life to save a runaway prisoner, was the one Bow had referred to. This was the prince everyone cared for- or at least, a part of her. 

That last little thought is what pushed Adora forward as she gently hoisted the bleeding woman into her arms and began walking. Despite being a lighter load, the extra weight wasn’t lost on Adora. She’d run full force from the castle and made it what felt like a mile before the wolves showed up. On top of that, the morning light was breaking over the trees confirming that aside from her nap she had been awake for almost 24 hours and Adora had always been the early-to-bed type. She was exhausted, and her legs were actively screaming that fact at her, begging to rest. 

And then Catra had nuzzled her neck, warm breath turning Adora’s entire body into a bumpy canvas of gooseflesh. Careful not to disturb she looked down to find the bloody hybrid smiling sleepily, apparently content with her actions. Adora felt hot, warm, red? Could you feel a color? Perhaps not, but whatever shade she was, this new electricity had shot through her and silenced her body’s request for rest. With this new wave of something unknown coursing through her body, she was able to push onward. 

They were bloody and tired, Catra completely unconscious in her arms and Adora’s bloodshot eyes drooped with dark purple bags heavier than should be allowed. They were a messy sight to behold, but they had made it. They were safe, through the front door and surrounded by incredibly concerned houseware. Her eyes locked with Glimmer standing towards the front of the crowd of onlookers.

“Glimmer, I need your help. The pack I had when I arrived, it would still be with Swift Wind right?” The candelabra nodded, “Perfect. I need someone to get it for me. I had some medicines Razz made and bandages. Also, I’ll need some warm water and towels for cleaning the blood off. I’m going to put her in that chair by the fire but can anyone cover it? I don’t want to get blood on it.” Another nod from Glimmer and soon she was directing orders as they all moved like a well-oiled machine, everyone tasked with their own directives.

Adora made her way to the fire, finding Double Trouble and a friendly coat rack had just finished covering the chair in some thick maroon material. “Drapes darling,” the feather duster crooned, “castles are filled with them.”

Adora smiled at the assistance and turned to start setting the hybrid down, only to be met with protest as Catra dug her claws into Adora’s shoulder fighting the position shift. Adora winced but breathed through it, she was so tired but they were so close. “Catra,” the softness in her voice surprised her like she was talking to a child and not someone who was capable of practically gutting a wolf with her hands, “I need you to let go. You’re home now, it’s safe.” The hybrid mumbled something incoherent but released her claws, allowing Adora to carefully place her into the giant armchair. She curled up on herself immediately, ears flat and tail looped around her legs. 

Adora couldn’t help but stare at the sight, amazed at the notion that this was the same being that had growled at her from a cell door. The same person who yelled at her for rejecting a dinner invitation. The same person who put themselves at risk to protect her.

“She’s so cute when she's like this,” came an excited whisper at Adora’s feet. She looked down to see Bow, who seemed to be biting down on a washcloth to contain his absolute glee.

“He means asleep,” came Glimmer’s voice as she, Perfuma, and Entrapta came around the corner, a large empty basin sitting on the cart accompanied by Adora’s medical kit. The team set to work, Perfuma filling the basin with steaming water, Entrapta and Glimmer looking over the woman’s condition, and Adora and Bow prepping the supplies. Once they had coaxed the sleepy cat-woman out of her ball and moved the bloody clothing aside to access the wounds, there was nothing left to do but take a deep breath and actually apply the warm cloth. It was met with the expected results.

Catra was yanked into wakefulness, hissing at a hot white burning sensation pulsing from her shoulder. Eyes wide and gasping she shot straight up, her head quickly turning from side to side. No longer in the dark woods but back at the castle in her favorite chair, Adora leaning away with a wince and a rag in her hand. Dizzy from her swift trip back to the world of the living, Catra flopped back with a cringe at the impact on her shoulder.

“What the fuck was that?!” 

“Catra! Language!” Perfuma looked to Adora with such a sincere apology in her eyes for the hybrid’s verbiage. Adora would have laughed had she not felt mismatched eyes burrowing into her skull. With a deep breath, Adora turned her focus back to a clearly irritated Catra.

“It’s just water. We have to clean the wound before we put anything else on it.”

“No.” The hybrid crossed her arms and looked away in what was clearly an attempt to end the conversation.

“It’ll get infected if we don’t treat it.”

“Whatever.”

“Okay,” Adora could feel her irritation seeping into her voice, “just so I’m clear. I carried you the whole way here so you could, what, die at home?” That caught Catra’s interest, her face souring as she returned her glare to Adora.

“I didn’t ask you to carry me, idiot. And I wouldn’t have needed to be carried in the first place if you hadn’t run off.” 

Adora was losing her cool, she knew it. Catra was baiting her like a child throwing a tantrum and Adora was all but clamping down. “I ran off because YOU scared me and started screaming for me to get out!”

“Well, I screamed because YOU were rummaging around MY HOME!”

“Well, I was only exploring because YOU wanted to keep me prisoner here!”

“Well, I-”

“ENOUGH ALREADY!” Adora and Catra froze and then turned to face a seething Glimmer, exceedingly more on-fire than usual, her flames seeming brighter and taller than should be possible. 

“Adora,” Glimmer chastised her and Adora cringed, fighting the urge to stare at the floor in shame, “you shouldn’t have been in the West Wing. It was clearly closed off and there is no way it didn’t occur to you that you weren’t supposed to be in there, especially at that hour.” 

Adora nodded her head and managed a small, “Sorry Glimmer…”

Catra snickered, shooting Adora a fanged smirk.

“YOU!” Glimmer whirled towards Catra who sunk back into her chair in a hopeful attempt at having it swallow her whole. “YOU have been rude, petulant, and managed to lose your temper more times than I can count!”

“It’s eleven!” Entrapta interjected. Glimmer’s left eye twitched as she opted to ignore Entrapta’s assistance. 

“You both owe each other an apology and a thank you and then,” she glared at Catra, “you are going to let Adora help clean you up because a tongue bath is not going to cut it. Do I make myself clear?” Both parties slowly nodded at the candelabra before turning back to each other. Adora, to the shock of no one, went first.

“I’m sorry for going into your wing. I… I knew I probably shouldn’t but I went in anyway.” Catra’s ears twitch and she eyes her cautiously, waiting. “And thank you. If you hadn’t come after me, I would have died. I really thought I was… it was really brave of you. Thank you.” Adora holds Catra’s gaze, willing her eyes to communicate just how sincerely grateful she was for the help. Catra, for her part, takes it all in and then seems to falter in her composure, nervously looking to the fire, clearly uncomfortable.

“You’re welcome. Thanks for,” she raises her injured arm to gesture to herself, “you know, the help back. And… uh… sorry for… the yelling and scaring you.” The entirety of the exchange seems to be more painful for Catra than her actual injuries and despite the soft fur on her face Adora is certain there’s a deep blush beneath it.

“Great!” Glimmer exclaimed. “Now, time to suck it up.” 

Catra huffs, refusing to acknowledge Glimmer let alone look at anyone, but she holds out her arm towards Adora. 

Adora is as tender as she can be, kneeling in front of Catra and slowly blotting the injury with the warm rag. Catra bites down any reaction, her face flinching just for a moment before returning to cool indifference. The shoulder is much the same, though Adora swears she hears Catra’s breath catch when she comes up close.

Soon it’s time for the ointment. A special blend of Razz’s used throughout the years to treat all of Adora’s scrapes big and small. It stings, stings like a wasp just dove its stinger into your open wound, but it does a better job than anything else Adora has seen. But based on Catra’s reaction to the water, this is going to be infinitely worse. 

The first touch of the fresh rag covered in the green serum draws a strangled yowl from Catra, her teeth clenched and body shaking against her will to remain still. Adora remembered the first time Razz used it on her after she cut herself while playing in the creek- she had cried and insisted she didn’t need it. The old woman had shaken her head and cradled the little girl’s cheek in her palm, “No no dearie. My Adora is much too strong for something like this to win. You got hurt being brave didn’t you? Well sometimes you have to be brave twice. But,” the woman moved her hand from Adora’s cheek to grip her hand, “give my hand a squeeze and we can share it.” She had made it through holding Razz’s hand the entire time and many times after that.

“Here,” she held her unoccupied hand out, “squeeze my hand. It’ll help.” For a whole minute, Catra stared at the open palm like it was a trap before meeting Adora’s eyes again. She looked… nervous. Like Adora was going to pull it away and laugh at her. Like it was a joke just waiting for Catra to complete the punchline. Adora knew that look because she’d given it so often to people who had offered the town weirdo insincere kindness for a laugh. 

But Adora wasn’t like that. Adora held her hand out, steady and inviting, smiling at the suddenly anxious hybrid. 

“Promise?” Catra’s voice was quiet again and Adora knew this wasn’t about the ointment’s sting. Catra was asking her to promise she wouldn’t pull away if Catra put her furry hand in hers, that she wouldn’t shudder at the touch. Adora suddenly understood the mauled portrait faces in the hallways, the angry destruction of someone who couldn’t stand the faces that didn’t resemble hers. The shame of having eyes looking at you at your most lonesome. Adora had Razz to tell her she was worthy when no one else did. When was the last time a human being had told Catra that? 

“I promise.” Adora was stern in her warmth, and when Catra placed her shaking hand into Adora’s, Adora held it firmly. They resumed the administration of medicine on the arm, with Adora offering quiet reassurances as Catra squeezed her hand (claws thankfully sheathed) at each touch. The shoulder, proving to be a more intense sensation, pulled tears to Catra’s eyes which she clearly didn’t want Adora to see. So Adora ignored them but offered Catra a soothing stroke of the thumb to the back of her hand. 

Once the ointment was applied in full, they released their hands though Adora made sure it was Catra who let go first. From there the bandages made for light work, by comparison, less pain and just discomfort from shifting to wind the cloth in a tight but not too-tight hold. At one point Adora’s hand may have brushed the fur of Catra’s clavicle and she may have noted how soft it was but she shook it from her mind almost instantly to focus on the task. It was done soon enough, and Catra settled back into the chair with a contented sigh.

“Feeling better?” Adora began cleaning up, gathering the supplies to carry back to the kitchen hoping Glimmer could direct her to the laundry. 

“Yeah, a little. I feel less crusty at least.” Drowsiness was crawling back into Catra’s voice as she looked into the fire.

“Want me to get you anything? I’m gonna see if I can find anyone in the kitchen.”

“Mmmm could you ask Perfuma for tea?”

“Sure!” Adora stood with all the odds and ends in her arms, feeling more than a little proud of her handiwork. She spun on her heels straight for the kitchen but stopped when she heard that voice again. The little one she had gotten a lot of these last few hours.

“Thank you.” Adora looked over her shoulder to see Catra still staring into the fire, once again avoiding eye contact and trying to hide from her gratitude.

“Of course.” And off she sped to the kitchen, a little flutter of something bouncing around in her stomach.

She found Glimmer in the kitchen, huddled with Bow, Perfuma, Entrapta, and a handful of other residents who apparently didn’t need to sleep. They met her with too-wide grins and a barrage of questions about how Catra was doing, so many Adora almost awkwardly backtracked away without the tea. Perfuma supplied Adora a steaming cup of what was apparently Catra’s favorite in a cup that was thankfully non-cognisant; apparently, Adora wasn’t the only one uncomfortable drinking out of something that talked.

When she finally returned though, Catra was sound asleep. Oh well, they could always make more right? Not ready to return to her room just yet, Adora found the least dusty armchair available nearby and dragged it to sit opposite of Catra’s. Finally content, Adora decided to settle in and treat herself to the tea. After all, Adora was not one to waste. The warm blend of licorice root, cherry bark, and some other herbs Perfuma had listed ran down her throat in the most soothing way, like a hug making its way through her insides. No wonder Catra liked this. She let the rest of the tea and the fire warm her as Catra’s soft snores drifted through the air.

She’d just sit a little longer, make sure Catra was okay, then head to bed. 

  
  
  


When Catra woke up, the sun was high in the sky. Her body ached, and her limbs were stiff from sleeping in such an odd position. She was thirsty too, incredibly so.

But Catra didn’t really notice any of that. All she could really process was the chair in front of her. The chair that usually lived in some dark unattended corner and the blonde curled up in it. Legs pulled up close, head resting on the armrest, and mouth drooling a massive puddle into the upholstery. Adora had stayed.

__________

It was almost two days until Adora saw Catra again. Everyone had assured her that Catra wasn’t avoiding her- according to Bow she was still recovering and spent most of her time sleeping. “That and complaining,” Glimmer had added. She had apparently taken to cleaning and dressing her wounds herself which was fine. Obviously, she didn’t need Adora to do that and Adora didn’t mind not being asked, not at all. That was totally fine. 

But Adora was getting restless, the last time they had spoken was so different. Catra had been embarrassed, nervous, and… soft? Not like her fur, which was soft and warm on her fingertips and made Adora wonder if the fur on her ears was the same kind of soft. Nope. Focus Adora. She just… she wanted to get to know that Catra. She’d never met anyone like her and their whole scene in the woods and then at the fire had felt… special? Different? Important?

“Ughhhhhh” Adora fell back onto her bed and groaned in frustration. 

“So that’s a no on another round of Go Fish? You know, I keep telling myself I’m gonna learn a new game but I just think it’s so fun ya know? Also, Old Maid just sounds kinda mean, I mean, no one wants the nice old lady card? Feels unnecessarily cruel if you ask me.” Despite the physics of it, Adora had managed to spend the past 2 hours playing cards with the world’s friendliest wardrobe in hopes of keeping busy.

“Sorry Scorpia,” Adora sighed, regaining her composure and some sense of maturity. “I appreciate the games, I just feel kind of… I don’t know, antsy? I normally can just kinda punch my feelings out but I feel like that might not work in this situation.”

Scorpia nodded, a pensive look on her face as she seemed to overly process the information. “Uh-huh, yeah. That is a thinker. Well what always helps me, or uh you know used to, was some tea. I mean, well especially when I would ask-”

Fate had decided to time things just right as the guest room doors creaked open and Perfuma entered, her little cart holding a teacup and a covered tray.

“Oh my gosh, Perfuma! Hi, wow, ha you know I was just about to tell Adora about how good your tea is. I mean, you know, tea is great haha it’s just you know, you have such a knack for it. Hah!” Adora watched with a bemused smile as the teapot seemed to positively glow under the wardrobe’s blushing gaze. Perfuma had been so eager to bring her tea to her room the past two days and she wondered if the excuse was for Adora’s sake or her own.

“Thank you Scorpia, you’re too kind. I was hoping to come by and drop off some tea for Adora.” she grinned that wistful grin that hinted maybe Adora hadn’t been her first thought. “Then I’m going to try and bring Catra some lunch. She’s been in and out of sleep, I think she’s avoiding any kind of schedule just to spite Glimmer at this point.” The two shared a chuckle while Adora perked up at the perfect opportunity to address her anxiety.

“You know, I could take her food? I don’t have anything to do and Scorpia was just saying she wanted to learn a new card game but uhh... I don’t know any. Perfuma, maybe you could show her some and I’ll take the food and save you the trip?”

Scorpia looked a delightful mix of flabbergasted and elated while Perfuma shot Adora a look that suggested Adora wasn’t as subtle as she hoped. Historically, she had never managed to master the ability but it seemed this attempt suited the teapot just fine as she smiled and nodded. “That would be wonderful Adora. Maybe a new face will convince Catra to stay awake long enough to eat a full meal.” Adora beamed and was out the door with the tray in hand seconds later, carefully speeding down the halls towards the West Wing. 

In her rare moments alone, Adora had just happened to wander in that direction hoping to spot Catra. And maybe she had done her best to memorize just which portraits meant for her to turn left or right. But as quickly as Adora had gotten herself to the West Wing she found herself halted in front of the thick layers of curtains and drapery that guarded the entrance. In an instant, her mind flashed back to her last visit behind this veiled entrance, to the dark halls and glowing rose followed by Catra’s terrifying rage. 

Was this a bad idea? Would Catra wake up and yell at her again? Just a few minutes ago, all she could think about was the woman she saw sitting by the fire. Small, nervous, and surprisingly willing to trust Adora. She had been so caught up in what it felt like taking her hand, of that rush of connecting with someone, she hadn’t stopped to wonder if it would carry over to the next time.

“You know, she doesn’t really have the energy for yelling lately. Worst case you get a hiss.” Adora almost dropped the tray as she yelped in surprise, turning to see Glimmer smirking up at her.

“Ah! Heeeey Glimmer, haha what uh, what are you doing here?” The smooth version of Adora was once again absent.

“Well, I was going to see if our beloved prince had decided to grace the world of the living today but it looks like someone already beat me to it.”

“Oh, yeah I uh, well Perfuma wanted to talk to Scorpia and Scorpia wanted to talk to Perfuma so I just thought it’d be nice if I brought Catra her food and let them catch up. But you know, I can go. I’ll just give you…” she attempted handing the tray of food to Glimmer before remembering why Perfuma and her cart had been given this particular errand. “Oh, uh right. Sorry.” Glimmer seemed unbothered, instead, much like Perfuma she had that look in her eye that made Adora feel like she was last to know a secret. 

“Just tell her I said hi, and that we’d all appreciate it if she kept the moping to a minimum.” And with that Glimmer turned and left Adora to stand alone in the hall absolutely red-faced holding a tray of food. When she had enough time to hopefully push down the heat in her cheeks Adora straightened up and marched through the curtains to Catra’s chamber.

She wasn’t sure why this was embarrassing, was she weird? Other than Razz, Adora really hadn’t ever had someone go out of their way for her, and Catra had risked her life to save Adora. And then, Adora had brought her home and they’d shared whatever moment that was in front of the fire. Yelling then a truce and Catra’s genuine show of vulnerability and Adora just wanted to know if that extended past a moment of weakness. She had enjoyed the feeling of someone else trusting her, even if it was the result of pain and duress. 

However, once Adora stood in the entryway of Catra’s bedroom she could feel the tray in her hand rattling oh so slightly. The sound seemed to amplify in the cavernous space like it was on a mission to embarrass her. She willed her hands to steady, to just keep quiet enough that the woman with giant cat ears would somehow miss the intrusion. 

The world, as it turned out, was not interested in what Adora wanted at that moment. The lump on the bed stirred and let out a long growl at being pulled from her sleep.

“I told you I’ll get up when I feel like it, Glimmer.” The blankets shifted as the lump called Catra seemed to tug them higher in an attempt to shut out the world.

“Oh, well funny story-” At the sound of Adora’s voice, Catra shot up to lock her wide mismatched eyes on Adora’s uneasy smile, only to immediately wince and fall back against the headboard with a thud. Adora cringed in empathy before putting the tray down on the vanity near her and moving towards the hybrid, stopping a few feet from the bed. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you it’s just, it’s lunchtime and I told Perfuma I’d bring your food for her. And I mean, I haven’t seen you since, you know, and I just thought it’d be cool to say hey. So… hey. What’s uh, new?” Adora could hear the words just tumbling out of her mouth one after another but her ability to stop them was missing.

For her part, Catra merely gave Adora a flat stare and one raised brow towards the end of her verbal vomit. 

“You done, princess, or did you have any other excuses you forgot to mention?”

Okay well, she was certainly healed enough for snark. Adora looked away in an exasperated huff. She was flustered and she wasn’t sure why. What had she expected? Adora never knew what people wanted from her, and it seemed like whenever she tried she was just too much. She couldn’t get it right. Well, at least the furniture liked her…

“Hey.” She blinked back towards Catra who was still staring at her but with an awkward discomfort on her face, hand scratching at the back of her neck. “I’m not really a morning person so, don’t take it personally. Thanks for bringing me food.” Apologies didn’t seem to be Catra’s strong suit but Adora could work with that. Relief allowed the tension in her body to melt a little, a comfortable smile on her face.

With a sense of ease settling over the room, Adora brought the tray of food over to Catra then sat in a chair next to the bed. She watched as the prince dug into her meal with a sort of ravenous animalistic hunger that most people would have found disturbing. Adora wasn’t most people though, in fact, Adora felt a sort of kindred spirit in seeing someone eat at a speed that rivaled her own. Was this something two people could be friends about? She laughed a little wondering what Razz would think if she saw someone else who ate with a ferocity like Adora’s.

“Something funny princess?” Catra paused her consumption, a piece of something green hanging half out of her open mouth, not helping Adora’s giggles.

“Sorry you uh, you kinda eat like me. I didn’t think someone living in a castle would be less ladylike than me.” Catra rolled her eyes and wiped her mouth, mildly self-conscious at being called out but still allowing herself a small smile. 

“Yeah well I’m not much of a lady, what’s your excuse peasant?” Adora made a dramatic gasp of offense and leaned forward as though the comment had dealt her a painful blow to the gut. To her delight, Catra laughed a raspy wonderful laugh and leaned forward to shove her shoulder. “Knock it off, idiot.” 

As the laughs subsided Adora caught sight of a book on Catra’s bedside table, her eyes lighting up as though she had seen a long lost friend. Just a few days ago books had been a vital necessity to her existence and the length of time she had been without one struck her as a curious revelation. Despite technically being a prisoner, the need for an escape no longer sounded like the loudest voice in her head. 

The look on Adora’s face wasn’t lost on Catra who followed the girl’s gaze to the book on her nightstand; just another distraction Catra had been in dire need of before Adora and her grandmother had disturbed her peaceful loathing. Adora seemed captivated by it though and Catra felt something akin to jealousy towards the thing that had stolen her interest. “You a big fan of myths or something?” 

Adora jerked back to reality and locked eyes with Catra, a bright and excited intensity having shot through her body at the words. “Yes! The library back home had a huge book of them actually! It was heavy so I didn’t borrow it very often but I loved reading them to gran while she cooked. There were just so many to choose from and they were all so different you know? Sometimes, for fun, I would just close my eyes and open to a random story and read. But,” Adora paused as she seemed to realize herself and blush at her words, “I guess that’s kinda lame huh?” 

Catra hadn’t expected to see her light up like that, so eager and enthusiastic but also… embarrassed? The way Adora’s cheeks went red and she dismissed her own interest, it made Catra angry at someone she had never met. Someone who had told Adora she was silly, a faceless person or persons who had taught Adora to stop herself when she was excited. She knew what that was like, to have someone dismiss your joy. For a brief moment, she remembered  _ her _ and shuddered at the thought.

“It’s only lame if your favorite story was about that jerk Zeus.” Catra revels in watching the words register and the exuberant smile that returns to Adora’s face. She likes this version better, self-loathing doesn’t suit the blonde. 

“No way! Also, what’s with the… you know,” Catra manages to not cackle as Adora makes a hand motion that she assumes is an attempted reference to sex, “with birds? I mean the guy is the king of everything and he needs to be a swan to seduce someone?” 

“Men are dumb Adora. That’s why.”

“No kidding!” 

The two enjoyed a conspiratorial laugh like they were in on a brilliantly hilarious secret. Had either of them any reference, they would have recognized this moment as something unique to kindred spirits. A special comfort reserved for two people whose nooks and crannies match up with unusual ease. But since they didn’t have the words, they instead shared a warm glowing fluttering feeling in their stomachs that was entirely new and euphoric. 

“But really, what’s your favorite story? If you’ve read them that many times you have to have one.” Adora leaned back in the chair and seemed to ponder the prospect of picking a favorite. After what Catra found to be a ridiculous amount of time to pick a story, Adora proudly landed on the story of Persephone.

“The one with the little goddess that gets dragged to hell and is stuck with the king of the underworld? And her mom goes nuts and throws the world into a miserable winter? A little on the nose Adora.” Catra motioned towards the window where the unrelenting grey sky had begun another bout of snowfall. She shook her head, determined but thoughtful.

“I never really bought that.” Catra quirked the brow of her blue eye, waiting for an explanation. Adora felt a little swell of pride that pushed her to voice the little story she’d always told herself.

“I mean, when I read it, it sounded like her mom wrote it you know? That when everyone asked what happened that's the story she told. I always wondered how it would sound coming straight from Persephone you know?”

“And what do you think it sounded like Adora?”

“I think that frolicking in a field would get boring, you can love your family and your home and still get bored with it. I think maybe the underworld was different and maybe she liked that she got to be somewhere new and exciting. I think when her mom found out where she was and she saw how upset she was, she compromised. She got to be a part of two worlds, a princess and a queen that was loved in both. And I think she lied about how she felt because she didn’t know how to tell her mom she wanted to leave her.”

“And what made you think all that?” Catra asked, surprised to find her voice was much closer to a whisper than she intended. Adora heard her though and answered with the confidence of a great detective who had put all the pieces together in the final act.

“The pomegranate seeds! Who would risk eternity over those? Sounds like a bad lie to me. Razz found some once and brought them back to the cottage for us to try and I gotta say, not worth it at all. So, kinda blows the whole thing right open right?” 

Catra was staring, captivated by this beaming woman in front of her; this smart stupid weirdo who had barged into her home, loud and demanding and difficult. How she spoke about longing and escape in a way that made Catra wish she was brave enough to reach out to hold her hand and say she understood. She barely knew her, but she understood. 

“Well sounds like the gods can’t fool you, huh?” Adora blushed but unlike before, she didn’t look away and kept looking right at Catra with that happy toothy smile the hybrid was growing addicted to. “Wanna tell me your thoughts on any of the others? I could use some more stories… it gets pretty boring waiting to heal.”

__________

Glimmer waited till later that evening to check on Catra. No one had seen Adora around and Scorpia said she hadn’t come back since leaving with Catra’s lunch. 

As she made her way down the halls to the prince’s chambers she listened for sounds of chatter or laughter or, god forbid, another temper tantrum. But she heard none of those things.

What she saw was both girls asleep, Adora turned sideways with her legs dangling off the armchair by Catra’s bed and Catra curled up facing the blonde. Both were smiling as though they had drifted in the midst of a joke that followed them into their dreams. 

Glimmer turned to leave, so eager to tell the others what she had seen that she almost missed the sound she hadn’t anticipated. The sound of Catra purring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think awkward/dorky Adora might be my favorite Adora. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, it was kind of a tough one to get through. I was anxious about kicking off the "getting to know you" stage and didn't want it to feel rushed but also really wanted them being soft.
> 
> Biggest thank you to @Pandoras_hope for beta-ing my brain fried draft and giving it all the TLC it needs to be coherent. 
> 
> Thank you all for your comments, they are the perfect pick me up when I hit a block :) Y'all are the best
> 
> See you next week!


	5. A Chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A day outside can do wonders.

Adora was used to waking up in chairs. While she never seemed to avoid the crick in her neck, Adora had a long history of passing out in places that weren’t a bed. One time Razz found her sound asleep at the kitchen table, face down in her dinner, narrowly avoiding death by suffocation at the hand of cold mashed potatoes. Another time she had been gently jostled awake to realize she had dozed off on top of Swift Wind. Drool left large confidant trails down her neck as she snoozed perched at a dangerous height, her horse thankfully more cautious than her. Chairs were the safest place she found herself waking from an accidental doze and it took a lot to surprise her. So yeah, waking up in yet another armchair wasn’t a surprise for Adora.

What she was not used to was waking to two large mismatched eyes a few inches from her face. She let out a startled yelp, jerking her through the phases of waking up at breakneck speed which only caused the watchful eyes to also jolt back in surprise. After a quick moment of catching her breath, she took in her surroundings to realize she had fallen asleep in Catra’s chambers, just a few feet from the feline’s bed. Catra had scooted back towards the headboard, blushing furiously as she cradled a footstool in her lap. Wait…

“Uhh… sorry, didn’t mean to scare you like that.” Catra was determinedly staring down at the footstool in her lap twirling one of its tassels gently between her fingers. The footstool, for its part, seemed to be enjoying the attention and purring louder by the second. “It’s just,” Catra raised her eyes to look at Adora with the blush gone and a smirk in its place, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone capable of drooling that much. Honestly, I didn’t think it was physically possible, I was worried you’d die of dehydration before you woke up.” Adora could feel the heat in her cheeks as she furiously wiped at her face, horrified at the realization that, once again, some of the drool had made its way down her neck. 

“Whatever, it only happens when I sleep at a weird angle....” Catra giggled and Adora felt a little flip in her stomach at the sound. She looked back to the footstool which was curled tightly into Catra’s stomach, clearly, it was another enchanted resident but she hadn’t seen any get quite so close to the prince herself. 

“This is Melog, they’re uh, well my cat.” At the sound of their name, the footstool stirred and flopped onto their back, little wooden stumps wiggling in blissful delight. Catra smiled down at the little stool, scratching her claws carefully around the tufted corners of its cushioned padding. Not the oddest thing Adora had seen to date, but the genuine warmth so freely radiating off of Catra as Melog purred at the extra attention was a sight to see. “Whatever this was,” Catra motioned to herself then around the room, “didn’t just affect humans. Took a while to figure out which side was their head but we got there eventually, right buddy?”

Adora found herself transfixed by the tender moment before her, Catra cooing over the little footstool in her arms and Melog’s little chirps of joy at the scritches to what must be their ears. Crick in her neck aside, this was a nice morning. After a few moments of just basking in quiet morning cuddles between a cat and her cat, Adora watched Catra lean back and stretch her arms over her head pulling her nightshirt up her sides, soft tufts of brown fur showing. Adora, despite her best efforts not to, once again remembered the soft feel of Catra’s face when she had buried her face in Adora’s neck. The memory brought another flippy feeling to her stomach and Adora coughed, averting her eyes and hoping to regain a little composure. 

“So, are you feeling better?” Catra paused her stretching and pulled her collar away to look at her shoulder. Adora did not blush at the sight of Catra’s sharp and suddenly exposed collarbones and if she did it was just a weird morning thing. 

“You know, I actually feel a lot better. That awful green goo you brought really did the trick.” 

Adora felt a little swell of pride and beamed. “It hurts as hard as it heals!” 

Catra rolled her eyes but kept smiling and this time Adora didn’t notice the tummy flip, she just wanted more. “If you’re feeling better do you want to maybe do something?” The hybrid cocked her head to the side and gave the blonde a curious look. “We could go outside maybe? It snowed last night so we could maybe check that out?”    
  


“It snows all the time here dummy, that’s part of the whole deal. Bleak, cold, and generally unpleasant.” 

Adora didn’t miss the way Catra’s morning ease faltered, a cloud growing over what had been an otherwise sunny start to the day. In her defense, Adora was still adjusting to this odd world she had stumbled into. Talking to enchanted furniture was one thing, but the long term implications of living under a curse another. She looked at Catra and saw someone who had long been burdened by weight far bigger than her slender frame was built to carry alone. Adora struggled with balancing her own wonder at the circumstances and remembering that this was a curse and not some sort of wonderful marvel. But surely there was a middle ground for some sort of joy, right?

“Umm well, I mean whenever it snowed back home Razz and I would try and make a day out of it. We would build snow sculptures, make snow angels. We used to sled but…” Adora shuddered, “gran gets a little intense on the downhills for me so I had to pull back on those. I mean, what do you like to do?” 

Catra was eyeing Adora like she had the other night, a mix of trepidation and curiosity. She got a foggy far away look as she idly stroked Melog’s back and seemed to recall a memory long forgotten, something that made a little smile creep onto Catra’s face. 

“My d- I used to have snowball fights. When I was little I mean. We- I would get bundled up and it would just be... a full-on war.” She got a glint in her eye as her smile turned into a wicked grin, her face alight with a twisted sort of glee as she looked at Adora. But it was exciting energy, chaotic, but Adora would take what she could get! She was having fun, or at least, something like it. 

After a lifetime of hanging out with her grandmother, this new rush of someone new, someone who didn’t make Adora feel self-conscious or weird, was intoxicating. Catra was like the rush of cold water when you jumped into a lake on a warm day. It sent a shiver up your spine and your instinct was to jump out and run back to shore, but the longer you stayed in the more your body not only adjusted but thrived in the water’s cool buoyancy. 

“Bring it!” And at Adora’s excitement, Catra grinned and threw back the sheets, leaping out of the bed with a flourish. “I’ll go change and meet you in the front hall?” Catra’s grin never faltered, nodding before Adora took off down the halls of the West Wing, never breaking her stride before reaching her room, out of breath, and positively glowing. 

“Oh my gosh Adora, hi! Wow, you look out of breath. Was someone chasing you? Was it Entrapta? You know she says she wants to know how you tick but she won’t actually open you up or anything… well unless you’re Bow but that was only a couple of times but once he learned to sleep in a locked cabinet that pretty much solved that issue.” Of all the adjustments Adora had made since becoming a prisoner, the quickest one was to the exuberant enthusiasm of her room’s wardrobe and her tendency to tower. From Adora’s position pinned between the door and Scorpia, she saw Perfuma roll towards her, ever composed and peaceful.

“Scorpia, I think Adora may need a little more space to answer your questions.” Perfuma gave Adora a little wink and Adora smiled at the teapot, grateful for the gentle assistance.

“Right! Personal space! Sorry, Adora,” Scorpia shuffled her looming frame back with a bashful expression, “I just get so excited. You know, it's hard to get out much when you’re like this. But don’t worry, I will not do that again! Yep, Scorpia and personal space are gonna be the best friends you’ve ever seen!” 

“So Adora, what has you in such a rush this morning?” Perfuma asked with a little knowing sparkle in her eye that made Adora feel flushed. 

“Oh, uhh well Catra and I were talking and-”

“You talked to Catra?! Wow, haha, color me jealous. How is she? Has she been tenderly nursed back to health? You know she and I used to run around here and just get into all sorts of things. I mean, she did not like to be overcrowded but boy did we have fun.” Adora didn’t miss the nostalgia in Scorpia’s voice, the way she looked a little sad despite trying to describe something so happy. Perfuma’s cart rolled closer to the wardrobe and the teapot leaned her lid against Scorpia’s frame.

“Catra can be a bit reclusive, especially since everything that happened… she’s always struggled with being open but over the past few years it's been challenging.” Both Perfuma and Scorpia looked saddened and Adora was suddenly very unsure what to do with her hands, or feet, or anything really. Perfuma sensed her discomfort and shifted back to her usual zen self. “Apologies Adora, we didn’t mean to burden your day with that. You were saying something about you and Catra? Do you have plans for today?”

Adora swallowed her guilt and tried to return the genuine excitement she’d had moments before. Everyone danced around the curse that hung over them and insisted it wasn’t for Adora to explore. The last time she had poked where she shouldn’t she’d nearly been torn apart in the woods. Besides, Catra seemed really happy this morning talking about snowballs and Adora was eager for the chance to get to know more about that side of the hybrid. Maybe with some fun, Catra would open up a little?

“Yeah! We’re gonna go out in the snow for a bit. I guess snow isn’t a big deal here but I kinda thought it’d be fun to go outside since she’s been cooped up inside resting.” At that Scorpia gasped in delight immediately flinging her drawers and doors open practically tossing a collection of winter gear at Adora’s unsuspecting person.

“Sorry! I just haven’t gotten to dress anyone in years! Oh geez, I have the perfect pants for outdoor adventures. Where did I put those, hold on they are right…” Adora fumbled through the layers of clothing until she was finally free for a pair of pants to smack her in the face. “Ah sorry!”

A few minutes and clothing articles to the face later, Adora was decked from head to toe in lavish winter-ready garments. Scorpia had found her not only thick brown pants (Adora hadn’t had pants before and wow this was a nice change of pace), but a warm red hooded cloak, a white sweater, and a matching set of boots and gloves. She was better set for an arctic journey than some fun in the snow but Adora was in awe of the absolute splendor of the apparel. Scorpia and Perfuma had to spend the entire time she was getting dressed assuring her that it was okay to risk getting it dirty. 

“Okay, I better head down before Catra thinks I chickened out or something stupid. Thanks!” But before she could go she heard a quiet “wait” from behind her and turned to see Scorpia staring bashfully down at an open drawer.

“Hey, Adora if you uhh… if you wouldn’t mind do you think you could give this to Catra? I made it for her a long time ago and she used to say it was her favorite. I was thinking, maybe if you guys are gonna be outside she would want it?” Adora came over to find a thick, clearly hand-made, maroon scarf sitting alone in the drawer. She picked up the precious item and lovingly stored it in one of her cloak's deep pockets.

“I’ll make sure she gets it, Scorpia.”

_____ 

Catra was feeling a little self-conscious. After Adora had left she had been so overcome with a long-forgotten sense of giddiness she had rushed to her closet grabbing some winter odds and ends and tore out of the West Wing towards the front hall. However, moving so fast meant she had more time to wait on her prisoner to meet her. More time to stand alone in the hall, fiddling with her ratty old blue cloak and wonder if Adora had been joking about playing outside. I mean, she was certainly too old for that but Adora had seemed into it, right? But maybe Adora was just trying to be nice, maybe she didn’t expect Catra to actually want to go outside. Why would she want to spend time with her anyway?

“Gahhhh!” She fisted her hands in her hair in frustration as the negative thoughts began their ritual swarming. Stupid. This was stupid. Why did she have to be so eager? Why did she think someone like Adora would want to do something dumb like play in the snow? I mean sure Adora was a dork but she was a smart dork and-

“What's got you so tense?”

“I AM NOT TENSE!” Catra turned all of her internal agitations to face the world’s worst lady-in-waiting, standing a foot and half tall and surprisingly smug for a glorified candlestick.

“Oh yeah, sure, you’re the epitome of calm and collected pulling your hair out in the middle of an empty room mumbling to yourself. Nothing screams “I’m fine” like a panic attack.” Glimmer looked up at her with a mix of absolute boredom and exhausted concern born from years of watching Catra’s repetitive spirals. Catra’s huffing and puffing slowly died down as she attempted to shoot daggers out of her eyes while Glimmer remained unaffected. 

“So… what’s wrong?” 

Catra resumed plucking at her cloak, tearing new little holes in the well-worn fabric while avoiding Glimmer’s inquisitive eyes. 

“Nothing. I’m just- ugh!” She scowled as her anxiety drove a claw deeper into a small hole causing a gaping tear to form. “I’m just waiting on Adora because we were going to go see the snow or something stupid but clearly she didn’t mean it and I’m just an idiot ‘cause I didn’t get she was kidding!” Catra was quite determined that she would not cry and even if she did it was because she was still sore from her injury not because she was suddenly feeling vulnerable and silly.

“Catra, come on,” Glimmer raised an unlit candle to brush the hybrid’s calf, “you can’t give up on yourself this easy. I’ve only known Adora for a few days and already I know she’s not the type to pull whatever it is you think she’s pulling.” Catra’s ears were flat against her head, tail twitching side to side but she dared a glance to meet Glimmer’s concerned look. “Whose idea was it to see the snow?”

“...Adora’s.”

“Okay, and what did she want to do out there?” Catra dropped her cloak and groaned, crossing her arms like a petulant teen caught in their own melodrama.

“She wanted to make snow sculptures or sled or something dumb like that.”

“Uh-huh, so it was her idea to spend the day playing games with you outside. And you think that was a joke? You get how that makes no sense right?” Catra continued to pout but her tail’s back-and-forth had slowed and the need to fight tears was lessening.

“You have to give her a chance Catra, honestly I think she’s just as clueless as you.”

Catra’s retort was on the tip of her tongue when her ears caught what sounded like an out-of-breath one-woman stampede blasting through the corridor by the stairs. She turned just in time to see a breathless but beaming Adora round the corner at full speed, so eager to wave at Catra and Glimmer she missed the first step and her body became airborne. 

The look on Adora’s face as her body experienced that brief moment of weightlessness before gravity kicked in was one of mild surprise and passive acceptance, as though this situation had occurred many times before. In truth, Adora wasn’t a graceful creature and tumbles were a pretty normal occurrence. What was not normal was the sensation of being caught. The upper half of her made a soft thud into a warm torso that moved with a sort of inhuman fluidity so that she was not only held up but steadied by Catra’s hands on her waist as she braced the blonde. 

“Hey, Adora.” Adora hurriedly righted herself, dusting non-existent dust off her new clothes as she attempted to gain some semblance of composure. She could feel Catra’s smug smirk before she saw it, perfectly pleased with herself at the save. “Are you always so careless or do you just like being saved?”

And there was that blush again, the heat in Adora’s cheeks was becoming second nature despite going most of her life without needing the reaction. “Shut up.” She gave Catra a playful shove and was delighted to hear her raspy laugh in response. 

“Come on dummy, let’s go.” And the two were suddenly running full speed out the door, racing towards a nonexistent end-goal but absolutely blind to Glimmer. The candelabra, all but forgotten as the two so easily slipped into their own little world, smiled to herself as she watched them laugh and run like children.

“Idiots.”

_____ 

She wasn’t sure what she had expected, but losing was certainly not a part of the plan. Adora wiped at a cold droplet of melted ice that trickled down her neck as she tried to rebuild ammo. She only had moments, a minute if she was lucky, before the next attack. The snow was clearly on Catra’s side, the muted white blanket paired with Catra’s already unfair dexterity and superior hearing made Adora’s softest breathing the equivalent of a rooster at sunrise. 

She had managed to hit Catra in the face, buying her enough time to dodge behind a long-dead hedge covered in a thick layer of snow. Adora had created 6 snowballs (6 and a half if you were talking to Adora’s competitive nature) when she heard a rustle. Catra was getting sloppy, giving herself away like that. Adora readied herself, prepped to leap out, and pummel the unsuspecting prince with snow when a little pile of snow plopped onto her shoulder from above.

“Trees are cheating Catra!” but her cries were cut short as a branch-worth of snow dropped down and flattened Adora under their weight. Catra let out a loud cackle as she leapt down from her perch to glower over the snow-covered woman.

“We never said no trees, Adora, it’s not my fault you weren't creative when we set the rules.” Adora sat up, arms crossed, and doing her best to look stern while covered in clumps of snow. It didn’t work because Catra just laughed again and held out her hand. “Get up, you look stupid.” With a dramatic scoff, Adora reluctantly reached for Catra's hand, then had a wicked idea and yanked the unsuspecting feline down into the snowbank and managed to shove a handful of snow down her back. Catra yowled at the feel of ice on her fur and lurched forward, scrambling to remove the quickly melting misery from under her shirt.

“Adora THAT is cheating!” She glared at the blonde who was too busy laughing at her own genius to look at Catra.

“I don’t know,” she managed through giggles, “it felt pretty creative to me!” And Adora fell back howling at her own callback, absolutely tickled with her snow war crimes. Catra would have been mad, maybe even sought retribution, if she hadn’t found herself so captivated by the sight of Adora laughing. Her blonde hair had mostly dislodged from her ponytail, messy wisps sticking to rosy cheeks that were practically glowing in contrast against the snow. 

Adora was like something out of a children’s story, everything about her was just warm effortless sunshine and Catra found herself deeply drawn to the desire to be melted. Even if it meant she ceased to exist, how nice would it be to feel warmth like that for a minute? 

She was jostled out of her thoughts by Adora’s hands waving inches from her face, Adora apparently having moved closer while Catra had been lost in her trance. “You in there?” asked the huge grin Catra felt privileged to be the recipient of. “I asked if I went too far? You don’t even have a coat on.”

“Pshh, I have that built-in, princess.” Catra extended her arm and pulled back the sleeve to reveal her warm brown hair with little dark stripes. “The plus side to being a monster is at least it's warm.” Adora’s grin faltered at that, as though Catra referring to her beastly state was somehow an insult to the blonde. “It’s fine Adora.”

“I mean, I think it’s pretty.” Adora, unthinking, reached her hand out to run a finger down the soft limb while Catra stared in shock at the gesture. It lasted a second, maybe two at most but to Catra it felt like an entire day in the sun. That melting sensation ran down the trail Adora’s finger left, leaving Catra’s entire being screaming for more.  _ Get it together _ . She slowly pulled her arm back and cradled it to her chest like a loved possession.

“Hah, pretty. That’s a new one. Better than “fascinating” though. That’s what Entrapta likes to say right before she asks if she can take a clipping for research, whatever that means.” 

“Wow, yeah she’s intense, huh? The first time I met her I think I was shell-shocked. Bow and Scorpia had to- Scorpia! Dang it, I can’t believe I forgot!” Catra watched in confusion as Adora scrambled around under her cloak, cursing under her breath until she finally pulled out…

“Oh.” Adora held out the maroon scarf like it was nothing like the object didn’t weigh a thousand pounds in Catra’s mind and brought back a flash of panicked cries on a cold rainy night. The image of her salaried “family” calling out to each other in confusion, asking her what happened as she stared horrified at her arms now covered in fur and fingers ending in sharp claws. Running through the halls, eyes blinded by tears but ears somehow sharper and everything so much louder. Finding her closest thing to a real friend in a room in the East Wing, scared and alone and made of wood. She tried to walk to Catra, but her movements were small and labored. She had been getting something for Catra, she always kept the new things she was working on in that room. 

Catra wasn’t sure when she had started crying, but when she noticed Adora’s arms wrap around her and pull her close she quickly felt the cold tear stains growing in size where her face was buried in Adora’s shoulder. She was shaking too, she hated how weak she was. How unfair it was of her to be like this when she remembered what she had done. How incredibly selfish she was to cry at the memory of damning the few people who cared for her. Even if they were only there for the money, they were all she had. But still, she hadn’t been held like this in so long and she let herself freefall into her sorrow as Adora silently rubbed small circles into her back. 

She wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, but she started to feel Adora shivering in spite of her unwavering effort to comfort Catra. The prince pulled away, even though she badly wished to stay nestled in those warm arms. Adora looked at her with what was likely an attempt at cool and collected but Adora wasn’t blessed with a poker face. Her raw panic and concern for Catra’s state were evident in those gentle orbs that didn’t know if they were blue or grey but were certainly soft. 

“Sorry about that, I uh, yeah not sure what got into me.”

“I showed you a scarf and you started to cry. Seems like this,” Adora looked down at the scarf sitting in her lap, unaware of its power, “is what got into you. I’m sorry, I- Scorpia said it was your favorite. She asked me to give it to you but I didn’t mean to upset you.” 

Knife to the heart. Of course, Scorpia had given it to Adora, neither party thinking it would shatter Catra’s oh-so-delicate emotional barricade. Adora looked so crestfallen to have ruined their day of fun, it hurt her heart to see that look on Adora’s face. It was so out of place on this summer-day of a person.

“Hey, this wasn’t your fault okay. And this,” she reached for the scarf and felt the familiar stitches beneath her fingers as she pulled it close, “is my favorite. It just brings back things I don’t like to remember.” She smiled down at the innocuous article of clothing, remembering that first week with Scorpia and how the woman’s enthusiastic demeanor had been so addictingly out of place in Catra’s grey world. Despite the fact that she too was paid to be in Catra’s presence, Catra couldn’t help but feel like just maybe she would have been there without the job.

“This was the first thing Scorpia ever made me. Glimmer brought her on staff to help dress me.” She smiled fondly at the memory of Glimmer looking in horror as Catra stood in front of the shredded contents of her wardrobe, scissors in hand and grinning like a madman at the destruction on the floor. In her defense, that seamstress had, like the many before her, refused to acknowledge her disdain for gowns and frills. While the ban on ladies in trousers may have been strongly enforced under her mother’s reign, one of Catra’s great joys in her absence had been destroying any gown that dared to enter her line of sight. 

“I was… difficult. Glimmer called it unnecessarily demonic but what’s in a name, ya know?” She grinned up at Adora and was relieved to see Adora smiling too, happy to listen and let Catra share. “But, well you’ve met Scorpia. It’s impossible to be mean to her. I mean, you can try but she doesn’t even notice. She listened to me though, she never tried to make me do anything I didn’t want to and it… it was nice. It was like someone saw me because they wanted to see me. I know she was here for money like everyone else but, I don’t know, she seemed genuine.

“When it- when I doomed everybody, it was hard. Anyone I’ve ever liked was screwed over because I couldn’t help but be a brat. Seeing Glimmer and Bow… they were right by me when it happened. I saw it. I saw how scared they were. But Scorpia, she was alone. She had been getting something for me. That's how she got stuck up there. It was all my fault but… that was extra my fault.” She felt the tears this time, hot little streams making their paths through her fur. It hurt to remember, hurt more to say it out loud, but the confession of her crimes took a weight from her shoulders. Catra was still burdened, but she was shocked to find it felt a little less so than before. 

Adora reached for Catra’s hand and Catra gave it willingly, the way their fingers interlaced felt so natural like they’d done it their whole lives.

“I don’t know what happened here, and I get that it’s not my business. For what it's worth, I don’t think you’re being fair to everyone.” Shocked gold and sapphire orbs met Adora’s soothing grey eyes as the blonde gripped Catra’s hand tighter, almost anticipating the feline’s instincts to pull away. “You keep saying that everyone is here for money, that none of them really like you right?”

Catra gave a small nod, fear clenching her throat so words couldn’t escape.

“Catra, if there's one thing that brings people together it’s disliking someone else. Trust me, I have… a lot of experience bringing people together. When you took me prisoner I didn’t like you at all. I mean, you locked my grandmother in a cell then said I was going to be your prisoner forever. You were terrifying and angry and I couldn’t believe someone could be so awful.”

The prince cringed at the description and tried to pull her hand back, but Adora’s grip was unrelenting.

“But when I told Glimmer and Bow that, they told me I was wrong. They told me you were kind, that you deserved a second chance. They talked about you the way people talk about someone they care about. And Scorpia?”

Catra was really crying now, those streams of tears turning into embarrassing messy rivers.

“Scorpia was so excited to tell me all about you, I didn’t think someone could gush the way she did! And the way everyone talked about you, they didn’t talk like you were some terrible monster they were stuck with. They… they sounded like a worried family. And I think they just want you to be happy, or at least be okay.” Adora sighed and added her other hand to the one clutching Catra’s, looking at her with an earnestness that was likely unique to Adora because Catra couldn’t imagine anyone being so sincere like this.

“I think you need to give them a chance.” Glimmer’s words echoed out in the open and Catra could hardly stand the way Adora, this stranger, was already closer to her than anyone had been allowed to be since her father. And wasn’t she just like him? Kind, genuine, and so full of belief in Catra for no reason other than some fool-hardy feeling.

_ Mija, you won’t see your ship coming in if you keep closing your eyes. _

“...Okay.” 

Adora’s face broke into that smile, the one from the day before when Catra asked her about myths and what she liked to do for fun. It was the brightest one in her arsenal, the one that Catra most wanted to see. Normally, she’d worry this was pity or someone just glad to have her mess over with but that wasn’t Adora. Adora was incapable of anything other than absolute sincerity. 

She also noticed another attempt to stifle a shiver and Catra was reminded that Adora was likely freezing. Freezing but unwilling to say anything that might disrupt Catra’s emotional outpouring of repressed fears. This ridiculous beautiful idiot.

“Hey dummy, let’s go inside? I’d hate for you to lose our game and freeze to death on the same day.” Adora huffed and rolled her eyes, still smiling that smile though. That wonderful smile that made Catra’s limbs feel like she’d been struck by lightning. 

“Okay but you didn’t win, you cheated. There’s a difference Catra.”

“Yeah yeah, spare me the speech. My castle, my rules princess.” Was Adora blushing? No, that was probably just the cold.

“Ch’yeah whatever!” The two laughed the whole walk back to the front doors, teasingly shoving each other back and forth, their conversation almost forgotten until Catra hesitated her reach for the handle.

“I… I don’t know how to talk to them. I just feel guilty and… I don’t know what to say.” Adora placed a hand on her shoulder, a twinkle of something in her eyes.

“I have an idea.”

_____ 

Scorpia loved it when Perfuma visited, I mean, she loved it when anyone visited. Getting around the room was one thing but opening and closing doors then navigating halls and stairs was a whole other deal and she had long learned that letting others come to her was easier. And when everyone came they always had some story, whether it was a retelling of Sea Hawk’s latest attempt to write a perfect shanty for Mermista or what kind of new blend Perfuma and Entrapta had concocted, Scorpia just loved it all. 

Everyone was so amazing! I mean, sure, being cursed wasn’t ideal but how lucky was she to have been cursed with such wonderful company? She wished that Catra would visit more but she understood it was hard. I mean, all this was riding on Catra being open and vulnerable and that was not easy for her Wildcat, no siree.

Ah, but there was something so wonderful about Perfuma’s visits. She was so nice, and Perfuma had been beautiful before but gosh, who knew teapots could be so pretty? I mean, the little pink roses that ran the rim of her lid were so detailed and she always had something exquisite brewing so when she left the smell would linger for hours. Scorpia always worried she was keeping Perfuma from important things, certainly there were more interesting places in the castle to be? But Perfuma always insisted that there was nowhere else she wanted to be and that just made Scorpia feel like a million little moths were fluttering around her cabinetry (though it's important to note Scorpia kept a very neat 100% moth free status).

Perfuma was in the middle of telling her something about a new root hybrid she and Entrapta had managed to grow in the greenhouse when she heard the door creak open and Adora’s head poked in. Ah, that Adora was just too nice. So considerate even though it was her room! 

“Hey, Adora! Welcome back! How was your day in the snow? Looking to warm up? I have just the perfect sweater in here for bundling up! Oh and paired with Perfuma’s tea, you’ll be toasty in no time!” The blonde smiled brightly and stepped fully into the room but kept the door open. 

“Scorpia that sounds perfect but I was wondering if you’d be interested in playing cards with me again?” Oh my gosh, how nice was she?

“Oh my gosh, how nice are you? That sounds great! But uhh, I hope Go Fish is still okay?” Adora shook her head.

“Actually I was thinking we could both learn something new.” Adora motioned to the open door and Scorpia all but squealed as she saw Catra slowly step through the threshold, ears flat, and gripping her tail in her hands. The maroon scarf Scorpia had so lovingly kept safe all these years was wrapped snugly around her neck.   
  
“Hey, Scorpia. I uh, I was thinking maybe I could teach you guys poker? My dad taught me a while ago but umm… Adora thought it could be fun.” The way she dared to finally look at Scorpia, nervous and fidgeting, took the wardrobe’s breath away. Words escaped her, did Scorpia know words? She had to, she was just talking, right? Had she been talking? For a minute Scorpia merely gaped as her brain finally caught up to the situation. Catra, for her part, was feeling less and less confident in Adora’s brilliant idea.

“WILDCAT!” And the wardrobe was suddenly pinning the hybrid to the wall, nearly crushing the air out of Catra’s lungs in the dizzying obliviousness of her unbridled joy. “Oh my gosh, I would love to play a game! I will learn everything about poker. It sounds so fun. Oh man, Perfuma are you seeing this? Wow, Catra and Scorpia, hanging out like the good old days. Playing games like pals!” 

Had it been a different day Catra would have growled and struggled. She would have told Scorpia to back off and reminded her of their countless talks regarding personal space. But today, to Scorpia’s absolute delight, Catra laughed her rare raspy laugh and managed to embrace the wardrobe. Neither noticed the small crowd that had gathered around Adora as Glimmer, Bow, Perfuma, and even Entrapta stood in awed wonder at the sight of Catra openly smiling. 

The woman they thought they had lost so long ago, returning to them after a single day of playing in the snow. 

_____ 

“Hordak, return this. I didn’t come here tonight to be insulted with some lukewarm attempt at mead.” Prime shoved that half-finished stein into his lackey’s chest with bored indifference as he stared into the bar’s hearth from his designated seat. He heard Hordak shuffle off and sighed, picking lazily at the latest pelt to be draped across his throne. Another trophy for his endless collection, the simpletons had gasped and applauded when he brought it in earlier. In fact, the bar itself was less a pub and more a shrine to his accomplishments. The walls of the stone tavern were adorned with the heads and antlers of all his kills, and pelts lined the benches his adoring public gleefully sat upon.

They loved him, rightfully so. Following the War of Brightmoon Prime had returned to his humble town of Thaymor a hero, eagerly recounting the stories of his heroics in the face of danger. He had gone from the simple son of a butcher to the prodigal son beloved by all. It was praise he had deserved his entire life and was pleased to find the townsfolk had finally caught on.

Truth be told the war had been dull, and while he enjoyed the rush of battle he found the opposing forces to be weak and easy kills. How quickly they would beg for mercy, ask for surrender. Pathetic. Rarely did he heed their requests, mercy was a symptom of the weak. Still, though, history is written by the victors and Prime ensured that all the tales of glory were to his liking. No one questioned him of course, but he had ensured none felt bold enough to dare. 

Women loved him, men envied him, he never paid for a single drink and wanted for nothing. Which was why he was continuously haunted by the bold rejections from the town’s second-least-popular resident. Adora and her kook of a grandmother had come to town a little under a year ago and had managed to make themselves outcasts within the first week. The old woman was mad, mumbling to herself and off tinkering with trash and mechanics beyond any sane woman’s capabilities. The girl was no better, wandering through town with her nose shoved in a book, or her eyes glazed over as her mind wandered far away. They were clearly not long for the town, not if they insisted on that behavior, but Prime had taken pity on them. The old woman may have been a lost cause but Adora… Adora was a different story.

As odd as the girl was, she was clearly clever. Cleverer than a woman should be but that was an easy enough fix, and a surefire way to ensure her sons would be fierce strategists on the field. And if that was not enough, she was striking. Despite being taller and meatier than was typically becoming, Prime found her to be beautiful. She was unlike the other girls in the village, who were plain and dull and easily blended together into a forgettable pile, with her blonde hair held tight, her stride so self-assured, and that strong jaw set in her refusal of his advances. 

He dreamed of breaking her, wondered what she would sound like begging at his feet. She’d likely cry, and the idea of grabbing her hair looking into those tearful leaden eyes while she wept for his mercy brought a swell to his chest he hadn’t known since battle. To own a prize like her, watch her make him meals, and dote on him every day was an exhilarating thought. 

“The bartender apologizes, he hopes this next round is more to your liking.” Prime sneered at the sound of Hordak’s interruption, the fool couldn’t even manage to grant him peace and quiet for five minutes. He sighed and grabbed the stein, pouring the sickly sweet honey wine down his gullet. How dull. 

He heard some new chatter by the bar and saw the local know-it-alls had abandoned their precious book hall to join the public. Those haughty bookworms were as useless as they were irritating, constantly encouraging the locals to engage in things outside their role and “expand”. The modern notions sent their usual pulse of rage through him and he sneered at the sight of them but paused when he noticed the crazy old hag was in their company. But no Adora? She rarely left the old woman’s side when in town, often on the defense as she attempted to protect her grandmother from the town’s judging eyes. Interesting.

“Hordak, did you see Adora come in with the rest of them?” He motioned to the bar’s newest patrons and Hordak looked and paused as though he were thinking. Prime doubted Hordak was capable of such a thing but who was he to squash the ambitions of his most loyal flunkey.

“I didn’t see her come in, I don’t think I’ve seen her in a few days. The old woman came back from the market but I haven’t seen Adora in town since we saw her at the library. Odd.” Hordak continued talking but Prime easily tuned him out, the gears in his head already turning. Adora was absent and the old woman had been left alone? Prime smiled his first genuine smile of the night and downed the rest of his drink in one chug. 

How delightfully interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Sorry, this took a second, I got a tattoo on my arm and didn't think through how hard that would make typing. Whoops. Also, things have been bananas in general so this chapter was tough. I really just want to smash their faces together but we gotta build.
> 
> Also, I love writing Scorpia. It's borderline therapeutic to write someone so nice.
> 
> Once again a huge round of applause to Pandora's Hope for beta-ing. I definitely had some brain farts and without their help, you too would see the mental goofs my brain makes at 2am.
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this and I'll see you next week!


	6. Close Your Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey friends, quick TW that this chapter addresses the loss of a parent and self-esteem issues. Nothing extreme or graphic but take care of you <3

The first time Catra had met Scorpia was a trap. Glimmer had claimed that there was a guest in the castle. A visitor who knew her family, insisted they speak with her and had been set up in the lavish East Wing guest room. While a rare occurrence since losing both her parents, there was always the occasional straggler who was late to learn of her family's continuous string of “misfortunes”. She wasn’t in the mood for pity, and depending which parent this guest was connected to could either lead to tears or a swift dismissal from the premises. But Glimmer claimed they were insistent, that it would be a few minutes of her day and that, most importantly, she genuinely had nothing else to do. She had been gentle with that last part but it still stung. After what Catra felt was an adequate amount of sighing, eye-rolling, and under the breath cursing she stomped her way to the East Wing. 

What greeted her wasn’t an old friend of her father’s or another of her mother’s cold acquaintances, instead, she was immediately lifted and crushed by the strong arms of Glimmer’s latest hire. Catra had thrown one of her milder temper tantrums at the onslaught of unprovoked affection, but with Glimmer’s exhausted pleading and the seamstress’ clear inability to read a room she had allowed her to take her measurements. She had asked Catra all of the things she liked and never gave a single indication of protest at Catra’s long list of “absolutely nevers”. Within a day she had gifted Catra a maroon scarf, the exact shade of Catra’s favorite chair. She didn’t know much about knitting, but she knew the turnaround time was no easy feat. 

From there the friendship bloomed. She would find herself mozying over to the East Wing room where Scorpia had set up shop, odds, and ends scattered across the massive bed, and just watched the woman work. They would talk, well Scorpia would talk and Catra would listen. It was one of the few interactions Catra felt at ease with. While Scorpia could be… exuberant, Catra was surprised to find she enjoyed it, even dozing off sometimes to the sounds of Scorpia stitching and telling her about the way the gardener kept making her tea. So yes, Catra was very familiar with waking up in the East Wing.

What was new, but becoming so wonderfully familiar, was the sight of Adora fast asleep across from her. At least the idiot managed to pass out in a bed for once. 

Poker night had turned into an all-out event. Different castle residents drifted in and out, all hoping to see for themselves the miracle that was Catra having fun. Turns out Adora and Scorpia were worse at poker than Catra had originally assumed. Despite the fact that they seemed to pick up on the rules with relative ease, neither was capable of internalizing any sort of reaction. They didn’t so much have “tells” as they had “clanging pots and pans in a silent ballroom”. Honestly, Sea Hawk was subtler than these two. But it was fun nonetheless! 

Glimmer joined in for a few rounds and managed to win each one. Her smugness was almost as palpable as Adora’s bruised competitive streak, clearly, the blonde was not fond of losing. Bow tried once but was too excited that everyone was hanging out to focus and resorted to random shouts of encouragement. Scorpia, for her part, was just thrilled to have Catra back in the East Wing. 

And that's how the past few days had gone, Adora would jostle Catra awake and immediately drag her outside for rematch after rematch of snow wars amongst a variety of other outdoor activities (turns out Adora was a prolific snow sculptor). Once they were thoroughly freezing, they would go back in to warm up by the fire then migrate to the East Wing for games with Scorpia and any other residents who felt so inclined to join. It was such an easy sort of joy that had slipped its way into the castle, wrapping itself around all those inside its walls.

Last night, following a particularly bad poker loss for Adora, Perfuma and Double Trouble joined them for tea and back-to-back ghost stories from Catra and Adora in an attempt to scare the other. Glimmer even volunteered to add some extra flare by letting them use her flames for finger puppets (which Catra was terrible at but it delighted Adora to no end). Somewhere along the line the two had fallen asleep on Adora’s bed, above the covers and sprawled out but over the night they had curled closer. Their knees touched and scents mixed in a way that made Catra dizzy and giddy all at once. 

It had been a long time since Catra had woken up with a girl in bed with her. Before the curse she hadn’t had any issues in the wooing department, being the young ruler of her own corner of the world was certainly appealing to plenty of high society maidens. However, she hadn’t ever felt any sort of anxiety about it, hadn’t memorized the minute details of passing touches or daydreamed of holding hands. Catra was always the cool and collected one, the one whose casual nonchalance and penchant for defying the standards of her status made her admirers putty in her hands. 

But Adora was different. Adora made Catra fumble and feel, made her so overcome with the need to hear the blonde’s laugh she was constantly thinking of what she could do next. She also made her break. Catra wasn’t one to share the weaker sides of herself. She preferred to have those moments alone in her room where there was no one to watch her spiral into self-loathing. But there was Adora, unknowingly pulling all of these emotions into the daylight and sitting there patiently while Catra adjusted to the sun. 

Yes, Adora was beautiful. From her broad shoulders and strong arms to her golden hair and soft eyes that reminded Catra of cozy mornings at the window sipping tea and watching the fog roll over the garden. Adora was striking and soft all at once. And yes, the way she was so quick to blush was intoxicatingly charming. But all of that beautiful outside was exactly who she was on the inside. Never had Catra seen anyone who was so genuinely themselves, even though she could tell others had told her to not to be. Adora was just… Adora. and Catra was in awe that somehow she had been lucky enough to have this woman find her way into her castle. Perhaps a lifetime of unluckiness had earned her this one reprieve…

With that thought, Catra reluctantly slid off the bed, careful not to wake the softly snoring blonde, and crept out of the room. Once out, she sprinted to the kitchen where she found her targets. Bow and Glimmer paused their animated morning chatter atop the kitchen prep table to process the shock of Catra standing in the doorway, hunched over and panting, awake before noon.

“...uh Catra? Is everything okay?” Bow’s look was one of growing concern. Glimmer on the other hand had settled nicely into her second-nature smug smile.

“I don’t think I remember any of your sleepovers ending this early? You lost your touch?”

It was too early for Catra to be this flustered and red-faced. 

“No! I mean, ugh, it’s not- I would never do that with Scorpia in the room Glimmer!” The candelabra cackled while the clock seemed torn between the glee of teasing and fear of pushing the feline’s buttons this early in the morning. 

“So if Scorpia wasn’t in there you would ha-”

“Enough!” Catra was mortified and struggling to mask it behind a half-hearted growl that sounded more whiny than intimidating. Glimmer seemed to take pity on her though and held up her candles to indicate backing off as Catra deflated and sank into one of the table’s chairs, head in her hands. “Guys… I’m going to say something and I need you both to try and just not be yourselves about it okay?”

As if on cue, Bow’s handles flew to his clock face to poorly mask a squeal of delight, and Glimmer’s right brow found itself reaching new heights. 

“What did I just say?” But it was no use, she knew her peanut gallery too well to expect anything else. 

“We promise to be as calm and normal as possible. Right Glimmer??” Bow looked pleadingly at Glimmer who rolled her eyes and nodded agreement. Catra looked between the two of them and let out a long defeated sigh.

“I wanna do something nice for Adora. But I don’t know… I mean I don’t think she’s the type to get excited over flowers or like fancy party gloves, but that's all I’ve ever done. I want it to be, I don’t know… special or something stupid like that.” Despite what was clearly an attempt at casual flippancy, her nervousness and bright red cheeks gave Catra away.

“Well,” Bow ventured, “it sounds like you haven’t been interested in someone like this before? That can be really scary.”  
  
“And for what it’s worth,” Glimmer interjected, “I think she’s special. Your old tricks wouldn’t work on her, she absolutely deserves something unique.” Glimmer’s words didn’t so much comfort the hybrid as make her shrink further into herself.

“I know that Glimmer but…” Catra looked down at her furry hands, claws unsheathed as she allowed that dark shadow of self-loathing to slowly creep in, “what can someone like me, like this, even do?” Her voice was quiet and unsure but still saturated in disgust.

“Are you kidding me? No! We are NOT doing the pity party.” Both Catra and Bow jolted to stare at Glimmer in shock, mouths hung open and speechless. “Catra, that girl has been all over you since she carried you back from the wolves. Wolves that you saved her from, Catra. She spent the days you were recovering bouncing in her seat to the point that Perfuma would only give her sleepy tea. And since you’ve been up you’ve been glued to the hip. She likes you, idiot. And as for “what someone like you can do,” need I remind you that you are royalty?” Catra, for her part, nodded dumbly.

“Okay, so, I get that living here may not seem so special to you but there is a lot here that would wow a girl, so think. What does she like? What gets her excited?” 

Catra pondered this, well, more like she indulgently revisited all her memories of Adora’s smile which she had practically stockpiled in her brain. Adora was an easy smile though, so she tried to focus on the really special ones, the ones that made her heart skip a beat and leave her shocked to find how easily her brain forgot the mechanics of breathing. But something caught, a little flame that found kerosine and made itself a roaring fire. Catra surged forward, gripping the table with a smile on her face.

“I’ve got it! Glimmer, can you send DT and their team to the North hall for a quick sweep?” The candelabra and clock caught on instantly and their excitement was hardly contained, but Catra didn’t care. Instead, she found herself basking in the energy of the room.

“Bow, feel like giving a tour?”

_____

Adora was currently in a field of tall grass and wildflowers, laying on her back and warmed from head to toe by the sunny sky overhead. The breeze fluttered through the green haven now and then but it never seemed to leave a chill, just a gentle brush of her cheeks before leaving her little paradise, stilled and serene. 

She heard a rustle to her right and rolled over onto her side, peering through a small forest of stems and grass blades in front of her to catch a glimpse of this new sound. There was another rustle and she inched closer, moving her hand forward to part a pathway for her eyes and was rewarded instantly by the vibrant colors of shining gold and sparkling cerulean. 

Catra giggled, her face awash with a comfortable calm and warmth as she smiled at the curious blonde.

“Hey Adora.” Adora gasped in surprise, her hand temporarily losing its grip as the tall grass closed her little doorway to Catra. She quickly scrambled to part the grass again but the hybrid was gone.

“Looking for me?” Suddenly there was warmth behind her as Catra pressed herself against Adora’s back, letting her tail lazily drape over the blonde’s thigh, and wrapped her left arm around Adora’s waist, tugging her closer. Adora felt the heat in her face and her breath was becoming embarrassingly quick. Could Catra feel her heartbeat racing? Could her ears hear Adora’s nerves so eagerly working to expose her?

Adora felt a tingle shoot down her spine and her breath catch as Catra’s right hand made an appearance, dragging a claw delicately up and down her neck while her breath playfully ghosted over her ear.

“Something wrong Adora? Do you want me to stop?” Catra paused her ministrations, her claw suddenly absent and the trail it had been running was achingly cold. Adora attempted to answer but all she managed was a whimper, a sound she had never heard herself make but so easily floated into the open air.

“No.” She finally managed to whisper, her body and brain completely frozen, functionality forgotten. “Please, stay.”

Catra hummed and suddenly her breath was closer, no longer a faint ghost but an all-consuming heat that Adora was willingly melting into. She pulled Adora even closer and Adora heard the whine escape her, no longer in charge of her own body but an eager trembling passenger. 

“Adora…”

Adora longed to turn and face the woman holding her, but she was so intoxicated at being held she couldn’t bring herself to interrupt what was happening. The gentle dragging of Catra’s claws on her left her body covered in goosebumps, the tickle of the woman’s downy soft fur lulling Adora deeper into an other-worldly state of bliss. 

“Adora…”

Catra was closer, her tail now gently thumping on Adora’s thigh while the hand gripping her side began gently squeezing, the fingers feeling deliriously white-hot. Perhaps, Adora’s foggy brain mused, she really was melting. Maybe she was somehow being absorbed into Catra’s arms and soon she would be a part of Catra. How wonderful that sounded.

“Adora!”

Adora was not in a field. Adora was in the East Wing, on her bed. And Catra was not behind her, stroking her neck and whispering her name like some holy word, but crouched over her prone form looking confused. 

“Catra!” Adora shot up and back, practically slamming herself into the headboard in a desperate attempt to distance herself from the woman who she had just been… her cheeks now somehow redder and head throbbing from impact.

Catra’s face was scrunched in a wince, a slow hiss escaping her lips as she watched Adora rub the back of her head. “Damn, sorry if I scared you. It sounded like you were having an intense dream. You okay?” 

Briefly, Adora dared to hope that maybe she was still sleeping and had fallen into a humiliating nightmare. But as Catra continued to stare at her with concern and her head continued to throb she had to admit she was indeed awake and that display had indeed occurred. 

“Yeah sorry, it was… you know I can hardly remember. Dreams right? Ha!” Catra didn’t look convinced but Adora’s glaringly awkward performance seemed enough to keep her from poking. 

“Okay weirdo.” Catra shook her head and smiled at Adora, hopping off the bed to grab a tray then bring it back to rest on Adora’s lap. Loaded with eggs, thick-cut bacon, buttered toast, and jams, Adora’s mouth was watering so badly she could hardly contain it. With no hesitation, she began shoveling it all in her mouth, the eating decorum a long-forgotten concern given Catra’s profound lack of table manners. After a few minutes of break-neck speed ingestion, she looked up to see Catra sitting cross-legged on the end of the bed, head resting on her hand and watching Adora with bemused interest. 

“You know, I’m surprised that between your little wake-up performance and sounding like a bear when you eat you haven’t managed to wake up Scorp yet.” She snickered and looked back to the wardrobe quietly snoring in the corner- it had been a big night for her after all. Adora, while consciously attempting to chew quieter, watched the warm way Catra looked at the snoozing wardrobe and felt the butterflies return. Is that how dream Catra had looked at her? Get it together Adora! 

“So uh,” Adora coughed, quickly wiping away any spare eggs and crumbs that may have clung to her chin, “what do you want to do today?” 

Catra’s ears twitched and her tail began to thump on the bedspread, she looked to Adora with a huge grin and a glint in those majestic eyes of hers. Truly, had there ever been anyone so dangerously alluring? Adora focus! What was wrong with her brain? 

“Actually princess, I planned something special for you after breakfast so hurry up.” 

Adora did not need to be told twice. She practically inhaled the remainder of her food and ran to the bathroom to change into one of the frocks Scorpia had made for her. This one was white and covered in intricate little flowers, Adora had marveled at the craftsmanship and the incomprehensible skillset of an enchanted wardrobe. She caught herself in the mirror and paused, running her hands along her skirt and re-rolling her shirt sleeves. Then she moved to fix her ponytail, was her poof dumb? Maybe she should wear a bun? 

The thing was, Adora had never cared what people thought when they saw her. She had long forgone the hopes of fitting in, so her appearance wasn’t much of a concern. Sure she’d seen the occasional looks from men, felt the creeping eyes of Prime whenever she had the misfortune of entering his line of sight, but she hadn’t given it any mind. In fact, based on the way those eyes had often seemed to appraise her like ribs at the market, Adora was certain she’d rather not know what any of them had been thinking.

But with Catra, it was different. Catra was mesmerizing, curse or no curse. The sharp cut of her features paired with her lithe little figure made her a handsome menace. Every movement seemed like a dance with her. Adora was more than convinced the woman’s grace and fluidity was something she had possessed long before whatever happened to the castle. And her raspy laugh, the way it accompanied her cocky smirks and devilish grins… Catra was a flame and everyone was a moth by default.

Meanwhile, Adora was… she looked at her messy straw hair strewn across her shoulders, abandoned after her 4th attempt to do something decent with it. Her eyes weren’t enchanting blasts of color, just dull grey that couldn’t manage to be blue. She was just too tall, too muscley, too weird, plain Adora. She angrily rubbed at her eyes, refusing to let herself cry over something so dumb. And what had even brought it on? A dumb dream where someone had liked her? Get over it, Adora.  
  
A knock sounded and she jumped, pulled from her self-loathing stupor. “Adora? You okay in there?” She shook her head and straightened up, she was keeping Catra. Catra, who had planned something special for her and she was keeping her waiting with this hopeless attempt at vanity. 

“Sorry! I was daydreaming, must still be sleepy after all!” She pushed open the door to see Catra leaning against the bed, her arms crossed and head tilted. The hybrid studied her, then slowly approached before reaching a hesitant hand to her face. Adora’s breath caught as her thumb rubbed her cheek and Catra pulled back, studying her fingers before looking back to Adora.

“Adora, were you crying?” Crap, so much for hiding the evidence, Adora looked at the floor hoping to think up some explanation to keep from embarrassing herself. 

“Uh… not really. I got annoyed with my hair, it’s stupid. Couldn’t make it sit right. Sorry, it’s dumb I just, yeah.” Great… super coherent Adora. Nailed it. She dared to look back up for Catra’s reaction and was surprised to see some understanding. She may not have bought her excuse but it looked like she accepted it. 

The hybrid came closer and reached that same hand out, this time to run her fingers through some of the loose hair on Adora’s shoulder and Adora swore time was freezing around her. Everything was moving achingly slowly as she watched her hair twirl and fall around Catra’s claws. Her eyes darted back up to Catra’s and found them to be invitingly warm like Adora was something charming to behold. 

“Well, I think it looks great, even without your little poof. And I’m sure your scalp could use the break.” She said the last part with a teasing smile and suddenly Adora felt a fondness for her straw hair, willing to forgive it for being difficult if it meant Catra liked it. 

“Oh my gosh Adora look at you! Wow, I mean, you look great in everything but wow. What did I tell you? Don’t you just look like a sunny day! You know I told Perfuma you would look so nice in white and she thought of adding flowers, classic Perfuma really. Always thinking of great ideas. And here you are, just looking so nice. I tell you, it’s nice to see your handiwork in action. I mean, Catra isn’t she just wonderful?” Scorpia was clearly awake and back in full force, leaving Adora struggling to remember what she should do with her hands when being drowned in compliments. It wasn’t really something that came up a lot. 

“Yeah Scorp, she really is.” Adora’s eyes went wide as they met Catra’s, sincere and soft. “We’ll be back later but for now, I have something I need to show Adora.” Scorpia let out some sort of delighted sound that was part squeal part booming guttural joy. The feline giggled then offered her hand to Adora, “You coming?”

_____

Maybe this was still a dream. Holding Catra’s hand while she eagerly led Adora down the halls, refusing to say what was waiting for them, was exhilarating. She felt her heart thumping in her chest and tried not to worry if her palms were sweating, but this was fun! Every time Adora made a guess at where they were heading, Catra would look back to give Adora that smug grin of hers, canines on full display. Catra made everything feel like an adventure like Adora wasn’t really Adora but had slipped into the shoes of a character in her stories. 

Unaware in her little haze, Adora missed the part where Catra had finally stopped and smacked right into her back. Today was not her day. Luckily, Catra seemed too excited by their arrival to, well Adora didn’t know where exactly. They had stopped in front of large doors that rivaled the ones at the front of the castle, showing a grand tree intricately carved into the doors themselves. Adora marveled at the details, from the knotted roots so delicately woven together as they stretched out from the trunk to the long languid branches who were home to an array of birds, squirrels, and clusters of blooms. 

“Catra… this is amazing.” She paused her wondering to look at Catra who was smiling up at the door, something nostalgic lingering in her features so slightly it could have been missed. 

“If you think this is something princess,” she smiled at the blonde, the twinkle in her eye back in full force, that electric starlight that was so uniquely Catra, “just wait till you see the other side. But, I need you to close your eyes okay?” 

Maybe another version of Adora would have asked why, perhaps that version of her would make a full sentence and a joke about this being a prank. But as it were, Adora was only capable of a soft smile as she nodded and put her hands over her eyes like someone playing hide and seek. She waited as she heard the creak of the door opening followed by hushed whispers, escaped giggles and what sounded like some last-minute shuffling. Then she felt a warm hand on her back and the heat in her cheeks rise as Catra’s warm breath was suddenly up against her ear.

“Alright princess, I’m gonna walk you in. No peeking, okay?” Adora swallowed and eagerly nodded in agreement, Catra chuckling at the impatient motion. She felt the hand push on her back and slowly began walking forward, only stopping when Catra’s hand on her back traveled to her arm, gently pushing her to a halt.

“Okay, on the count of three open your eyes.” 

“Okay.” Anticipation made her insides twitch and brain buzz with possibilities. Wherever she was smelled cozy and old, the air warm and peaceful. 

“One… two…” Catra sounded like she was struggling to make herself maintain a steady pace, was she really so excited to surprise Adora?

“Three.”

Adora let her hands fall and her eyes open to a sight that seemed the most unworldly she’d witnessed to date. 

In fantasies, she’d found herself the owner of the town library, or simply had the building moved next door to her home with Razz so she could come and go with ease. How indulgent that daydream had been, having unlimited access to almost 100 books?

What was before her though, was a grand expanse of space that could fit her entire town within its high walls, with sunlight peeking through the tall windows and a scattering of tables and reading chairs to curl into as you disappeared in worlds made of ink and paper. And how many of those worlds lived in this place? A million? Adora stared wide-eyed and mouth agape at the shelves upon shelves that lined the never-ending room. The shelves themselves were so tall and vast they had their own ladders on wheels so you could simply glide through the stacks and never land on the same book twice. It was grand, rich, and beautiful, so profoundly unbelievably perfect and unreal. In a trance, she walked to the nearest shelf to run her fingers down the spine of some unknown book in an effort to prove to herself this was real. Words failed her, thought failed her, all Adora could do was turn to Catra, shell-shocked, and looking for some sort of explanation as to what she was seeing. 

“You like it?” She beamed at Adora, lifting a hand and motioning to the absolutely breathtaking splendor. 

“Catra… this… this is the most amazing place I’ve ever seen.” Adora’s words were barely a whisper, but Catra’s ears easily caught them and they sent the feline’s stomach into a series of little flips. 

“Well then, it’s yours.” The two women locked eyes, Catra’s ablaze with delight at the ceaseless joy of leaving Adora speechless and Adora’s… well Adora was crying. Joy turned to panic as Catra rushed forward, hands reaching to touch the blonde but hesitating and instead letting them drop to her sides with fingers fidgeting. She watched as Adora regained some sense of self and began furiously rubbing at her eyes, face red, and refusing to look at Catra.

“Sorry, I- this is so embarrassing.” Adora desperately didn’t want to cry. Catra had been so excited to bring Adora here, a place beyond the wildest outliers of her own imagination and she was crying. Why was her brain so insistent on working against her today? 

“It’s okay, I umm didn’t mean to overwhelm you. Sorry, I should have-”

“No!” Adora suddenly grabbed Catra’s shoulders. “I’m sorry. Catra this is, this is something I don’t think I could have imagined. It’s wonderful. I just, no one’s ever… it’s just perfect and I don’t think I know what to do with perfect.” Her last words said with a wobbly sort of messy smile, but it was genuine and glowing. The hybrid released a breath she didn’t know she had been holding.

“That’s okay, you’ve got time to adjust. Like I said, it’s all yours.” Adora’s eyes lit up again like she was allowing herself to process the words. Before she could fight, Catra held up a finger to her lips effectively shushing the blonde (and possibly giving them both heart palpitations neither were emotionally prepared to address). “No buts princess, this place has missed having a bookworm.” She kept her finger against Adora’s lips, partly to ensure there would be no push back but mostly because the sensation it caused made Catra’s entire body feel it was being consumed by the sun. Catra finally relented only after Adora smiled from behind her finger and she wondered if this sort of feeling was what all those dumb romance books were about. 

Adora looked around again, slowly spinning like a ballerina in a music box and Catra watched with fond fascination. Their eyes met again and, as each regarded the other, a clicking sounded in their heads. A subtle alarm that something had changed. 

At that moment both Adora and Catra were unaware that they were experiencing exactly the same thought, minds whispering identical words.

“...I wonder.”

_____

The castle library had been a newer addition. Newer in that it had been built within the span of the last 50 years which was no small undertaking considering the long history of the ancient royal home. Something like it had existed in a room in the West Wing but the young King Benigno D'riluth craved more and soon he declared the secondary grand hall would be converted into a sanctuary of literature and learning. His wife had barely contained her disdain.

You see, the young king wasn’t just building a haven for peaceful escapes into written worlds, he was creating a special place to share with his future child. His wife already 2 months with child, he dreamed of rainy afternoons spent with brave knights fighting dragons or explorers in faraway lands seeing the world from a new perspective. The places they would go together, even in the months he was castle-bound fulfilling his duties. The places their mind would go without him when he was gone, eagerly returning to let them tell him all they’d read. 

And maybe they wouldn’t love reading as he did, maybe they would be like their mother and prefer the accolades and applause status provided. But at the least, this place would be safe for them. It would be theirs to run to when needed, a sacred shrine built to honor the profound love the king felt for this person he hadn’t met. 

And it was sacred. Let it be known that while the king lived, he and his child had many adventures within the walls lined with words. They read about princesses, talked about the future, planned elaborate pranks, and basked in the glow of being so purely and profoundly cherished by another. As long as they had each other, they were understood. 

Fate, however, is inconsistent with its kindness.

On the evening of her 11th birthday, the prince screamed into the empty room, consumed with rage by the sheer lack of her father’s presence. Devastated to know she would never again see him in his favorite chair, that the grand maroon seat would never again have King D'riluth settled against its tall back reading another one of his dumb mystery stories. Never would she curl into his lap and listen to him read her fairytales after a particularly long day, hear him chuckle at his own jokes in a manner so contagious she was unable to resist joining in.

This room, that had borne witness to so many of his laughs, couldn't produce a single sound of sympathy for the angry girl crumpled on the floor. The walls could only watch as she begged and pleaded with them to bring him back. She had read of miracles, wishes, and fairy godmothers who came to help when the hero most needed them. This was their place, and if he could be found anywhere surely it would be here. 

But she was met with cruel silence. She wasn’t a hero, this place wasn’t special, and Catra knew there was no such thing as magic.

_____

It had been 5 days since Catra had given Adora the library, though for Adora it had felt like no time at all. She could (and did) spend hours simply reading the titles on the shelves, in awe that so many options even existed. The piles of books she pulled resembled miniature mountain ranges but she was feverish in her consumption.

Bow, who had explained his role as the official librarian and archivist, had proven incredibly useful (despite being a tad out of practice) in answering all of Adora’s endless questions. Her stream of consciousness shocked herself as word after word slipped past her lips in this enchanting place, as though the library itself was coaxing her untethered exuberance out of her. He walked her through the cataloging, how to navigate the genres and dating, and most thrillingly how to operate the wheeled ladders that ran the length of the walls. Turned out that Catra had been banned from using them when she was 20 after utilizing them for what Glimmer called “illicit pranking purposes”. 

It was all wonderful, this life she had stumbled into didn’t feel like a life sentence but a gift she could hardly fathom in the first place. No longer did Adora have to remind herself to walk with her head held high, it just naturally found its way there. She was surrounded by a parade's worth of personalities, all unique but equally kind and encouraging, unlike anything she had met in any of the towns she and Razz had attempted to settle into.

And of course, there was Catra, her warden turned confidant whose smile sent lovely confusing shivers down her spine and made her stomach break into a series of acrobatic flips. The woman who, within a few days, had somehow seen Adora in a way no one but her grandmother had. While the library didn’t seem to captivate her the way it did Adora, she was always content to sit in a chair and listen to Adora gush over her latest find with genuine interest. Sometimes Catra even nudged Adora in her explorations, suggesting Adora venture to a section she hadn’t considered and subtly guide her to a particular title that fit exactly what she had been thinking. 

Yes, Catra approached the library itself with casual indifference and seemed to be there solely for the benefit of Adora’s company, but she couldn’t disguise that she knew it intimately. Sometimes she’d catch her staring at one book, in particular, tracing its spine with a far-away smile before quietly pulling back and drifting as far from it as possible. Adora did her best to respect those moments she was certainly not invited to, but after five days her patience broke in a moment of weakness.

It occurred later in the afternoon, Catra had stepped out to go visit the kitchen in search of snacks and something to drink, leaving Adora to her own devices. Her eyes immediately shot to the nameless work that had been luring her with its siren song for days. All she wanted to know was what it was, just a quick peek inside to get the title and maybe the first page for context. She could do that in two minutes easily! It would be back in its place long before Catra returned. Her hand, itching with anticipation, gripped the book and drew a deep breath before flipping back the cover.

The book was called “The Prince Who Would Be King”, and it was a beautiful anthology of the life of a young prince whose days were spent learning about the world with her father and all their adventures. The stories ranged from 1-4 pages and many were just scribblings of the two smiling and playing around their castle. It was riddled with spelling errors and the artwork was messy, but it was still well written considering a child had filled the pages themselves.  
  
“I wondered when you’d find that one.”

Adora yelped in surprise, nearly dropping the precious work to the ground in her scrambling to face Catra. Catra, who seemed surprisingly calm considering the blonde’s betrayal. The hybrid had a sad smile on her lips and her eyes were soft, no anger just a cloudy melancholy. She moved to settle the small tray of sandwiches she had brought on a nearby table and Adora noted the other arm was clutching a bottle of wine with two glasses carefully balanced between her fingers. When Catra settled into one of the library's squishier loveseats she motioned Adora to follow suit and the blonde wordlessly obeyed, book clutched to her chest, watching the woman pour the bottle's red contents into the glasses. “Not exactly what I planned this for but still, lucky call.”

The silence was uneasy, not on Catra’s part mind you, but Adora whose brain was screaming a litany of words at her foolhardy breach of trust.

“Breathe Adora.” Catra laughed, handing a glass to the blonde who seemed on the verge of bursting a blood vessel she looked so strained. Adora reluctantly sipped from the glass and willed herself to loosen enough to appear somewhat normal. A few moments passed before she cleared her throat and placed the book between them.

“I’m sorry... I saw you look at it a few times and I couldn’t stop myself.” Those same soft eyes were watching her, fogged by something bittersweet in the deep trenches of Catra’s mind. 

“It’s okay Adora, really. Like I said, I figured you’d come across it at some point. If I had wanted to hide it from you I could have taken it. I just,” she sighed and took a deep drink of wine, “I didn’t have it in me to say anything about it either way. Does that make sense? I think it would hurt to hide it but it hurts to look at too.”

Adora studied the woman before her, it wasn’t the first time she’d watched Catra lower the drawbridge for the fortress she’d built around herself, but this was different. While the others had been filled with panic and regret this was calm. Like she was inviting Adora into something sacred and secret. 

“My dad, he was a lot like you. Heart on his sleeve type and obsessed with books. Had one of our old ballrooms turned into this because he thought the one they had was too small. Mother hated it but she hated everything that wasn’t about her.” Catra paused at that like she was irritated to have the notion of her mother interrupt her memories with her presence in them. 

“He wasn’t like most people, at least not that I’ve met. He was too nice, he was supposed to be a king but he just wanted to goof around with me all day. He uh, he told me he built this place for me. Said he wanted me to have a place I could escape to when it was too rainy to go outside or I needed to be alone.

“I wasn’t as big a bookworm as him but I loved the way he’d read to me. He did these dumb voices, and would like get into character about it which, for a kid, was probably the funniest thing ever.” She smiled, the look on her face telling Adora she was hearing one of those voices, reliving a story if only for a moment.

“I loved it when Razz would do voices,” Adora added softly, treading so cautiously into this space Catra was allowing her into. Catra smiled at that and let out a chuckle.  
  


“Of course you did dork, I bet your gran had some wild ones.” Adora nodded and the two enjoyed a simple moment of quiet before Catra continued. 

“When I told him I didn’t want to be called a princess he didn’t even bat an eye. He just asked if there was anything else I didn’t like and I told him boys and then he laughed so hard he almost threw up. The next day he gave me this,” she reached and lovingly brushed her fingertips along it’s cover, “he said that if I was going to be king someday I should keep a record of everything I learned. I mean, it was clearly just him trying to get me to write stuff down but I was way more into the idea of an adventure book than a diary.” She paused, another sip, another breath to steady herself as she ventured further into the depths of her memories.

“Your parent shouldn’t be your best friend but it was weird growing up here. The only kids I saw were for formal events and I was always so miserable when my mother made me dress up. Dad was the only one who just let me be. He never tried to force me into anything and he always wanted to listen to what I had to say, even when I was being a shit about it. He was my whole world.” Catra stopped again to sip on her wine a few times, the hand resting on the book twitching from obvious nerves.

“It happened on my birthday. I was turning 11 and he had been called away on a diplomatic mission the week before. He had promised to be back for dinner, we had a tradition of sneaking any extra cake into the library after mother went to bed and eating until we felt sick. When I saw the horse coming from the gate I ran outside without thinking, didn’t even process that it wasn’t his horse. It was a messenger. They told us his ship had hit rough waters, a storm no one anticipated. No one survived.”

Catra’s breath caught with a hitch and Adora watched the tears she had so bravely managed to stave off begin their journey down her cheeks, each spilled droplet creating new trails and branching off to unsalted skin before disappearing into her shirt collar. Adora reached for her trembling hand and gripped it firmly, offering silent comfort and a squeeze to let her know she was here and waiting. Catra squeezed back a moment or so later as she began to steady herself. She hadn’t talked about that day in so long, the locked away emotions doing all they could to re-shatter Catra’s fragile heart so loosely held together by avoidance and anger.

“I came here that night… I thought maybe I could find him. Like it was a prank and he’d be there with cake, jumping out and laughing like he used to. I desperately wanted to believe my dad, the kindest man to ever exist, would pull the cruelest prank on his daughter for a laugh. But he wasn’t here. It was just me and his memories.”

Adora didn’t know when she had started crying, she only knew her cheeks were damp and her nose was doing its best to keep from running. She didn’t address it though, just kept her eyes on Catra and watched how the look in Catra’s eyes shifted, from innocent heartbreak to cold rage.

“Mother recovered quickly enough. She hadn’t really loved either of us, made it perfectly clear that she tolerated us out of royal duty and the pedigree of their union.” Catra practically spat the words as though they were laced with venom. “Dad always said it wasn’t her fault, she was born so deep into that world that she couldn’t see the value in anything that wasn’t power. He was too nice, she was just rotten from the inside out. She walked around here like everyone existed to serve her, just barking orders and making digs at anyone that looked too happy. The only time she even bothered to talk to anyone in a full sentence was when she was hosting a party and people were around. But that got old I guess, one day she just up and left in the middle of the night. The rumor was she and my dad’s old advisor had run off together. He was a snotty prick, almost as obsessed with status as her, and she could be free of all this. Of me. The perfect deal.” Catra took one final gulp of her wine before looking at Adora, their hands still clasped over the loving memento of the late king.

“So yeah, that’s the story of the great D'riluths. One man who loved everyone and two women who didn’t deserve him.” Catra sat before Adora, once again fragile and small and Adora wondered how any single person was meant to carry so much hurt. Slowly, she released Catra’s hand so she could open her arms, and soon Catra was pressed against her. Adora leaned back against the soft arm of the chair and Catra curled into her chest, head nestled under her chin and face buried in her chest. 

“He sounds wonderful, I’m sorry I didn’t get to meet him. But I’m glad you had him and you most certainly deserved him Catra.” 

The two cried quietly for a while after that, Adora tenderly combing her fingers through Catra’s wild mane while the prince allowed herself the space to come down from her emotional high dive. After what could have been minutes or hours, Catra found her voice again. 

“Can you read it to me? I think… I think I’d like to hear about him again.”

Adora happily obliged, adjusting so Catra could follow along as Adora began narrating the scrawled pages of the prince’s youth. They started from the beginning, as one often does, with a story about why the prince hated dresses because if it was windy your legs got cold and they made climbing trees hard. From there it was a series of anecdotes or random details of her day. Catra would often interrupt to clarify a story, or give Adora context that an 8-year-old version of herself failed to provide, the lilt in her voice growing more profound as the echo of tears slowly faded. 

It was warm and kind, like every tender moment she had shared with Catra. When Adora had made it 3 pages with no interruption she looked to find the woman fast asleep in her arms, smiling in slumber.

And before Adora joined her in sleep, the book put aside and her arms wrapped around the woman’s frame, she allowed herself one last indulgence that day. Tenderly lowering her head to breathe in Catra’s hair, she found she smelled of cinnamon and grass at twilight, and that kissing the top of her head felt like a night sky bright with stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Apologies if you got a double notification on this in my rush to get this out I made two huge mistakes and had to fix*
> 
> I just wanna say this chapter did not go how I planned but I really loved writing it. I hope you enjoyed it :)
> 
> Two big shout outs:
> 
> As always, best beta and superstar Pandoras_Hope for taking time from their nanowrimo to review this and help me edit when my brain has fully farted out. They're incredible and wonderful and you should check out their work! 
> 
> Also dragon_loves_books has made ART of this fic and when I tell you I was completely floored and touched and just overwhelmingly delighted to see all the things they've done. Also they truly understand the importance of capes and angst. My heart can barely contain it, it gave me so much motivation! You can find it on their IG with the same name (and don't worry I confirmed permission to share that before this). Please give some love <3
> 
> Thank you for reading and I'll see you next week friends!


	7. Learn to Lead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shadow Weaver is named Shantella and french and any similarities between her and my aunt are purely coincidental.

“Mija? Are you in here?” King Benigno eased his way into the library, confident his daughter was hiding in its depths but uncertain how open she was to company. It had been a screaming match apparently, while he had been knee-deep in a trade deal Shantella had discovered that Catra had found the shears and once again destroyed the contents of her closet. It wasn’t the first time, and based on Catra’s very loud opposition, it wouldn’t be the last. 

“It’s one thing for you to encourage her brutish behavior but to turn a blind eye as she actively parades herself around the halls embarrassing us! Dressing like some feral street urchin? What if we had guests and they saw her running barefoot in her nightclothes in the middle of the day? We would be ruined, Benigno, and lucky to manage wedding off her to some inbred local butcher! What prince would have her?” 

He understood his wife’s concerns. Well, he understood why she felt that way. She was like so many born into nobility, driven by status and the fear of what others may say in harshly hushed whispers. And yes, those whispers only got louder the higher you climbed, but it seemed she fed on the fight. Their arranged union had granted her almost unreachable heights, delighting her with the waves of envy that washed up on her shore at every event. Shantella only seemed to shine when she was engulfed in the perfect polished glow of her title, anything else was a distraction. 

Unfortunately, their daughter was her greatest liability. She had provided an heir, not for love but for almighty expectations of maintaining lineage despite the king’s insistence that that was not what he wanted. He had always longed for a reprieve, for those warm human moments that existed outside of titles and nobility. Something beyond old portraits haunting empty halls and long-forgotten ledgers documenting success instead of the person who lived between those lines. 

Catra was, to his delight and his wife’s disappointment, the most unholy union of the two of them. Sharp, observant, and calculating but bursting at the seams with joyful defiance. She was creative as they come, often regaling her father with random musings and made-up stories that delighted the king for hours. And her laugh was one in a million, something between a raspy old sea captain and young bird first chirping out its arrival in the world. Benigno had decided she was indisputably the funniest person alive the first time he heard her laugh and to this day had yet to be proven wrong.

Today was not a funny day though, today was one of those days where he struggled with the weight of explaining to his 10-year-old daughter why it was her mother seemed to disapprove of her very existence. Why Shantella would only hear Catra’s wants as direct insults to her very way of life. How do you tell a child that in their world, sometimes, parents are not what they should be? That, sometimes, adults are the wrong ones but they’re too old to stop and reconsider themselves. 

“Go away,” answered a small shaky voice, drifting through the vacant library. 

She was easy to spot, Catra had a total of three preferred hiding places when she was upset. The worst one (in the king’s absolutely correct opinion) was on top of the geography section, the ladder running just tall enough that an agile little girl could easily hoist herself up over the shelf and curl up against the sun-warmed stained glass window above it. The second was a section of a particularly deep set of shelves meant to contain large volumes of historic ledgers and family records that Catra had pulled out and made a cozy nook for herself. The older she got the less comfy it was but she was too stubborn to admit it and the king had no reason to push the issue. 

The last, and least inventive, was behind her father’s chair. This was where she came when she didn’t have the energy to disappear, when she was so sad her only goal was a quick hideaway so she could cry to the point of exhaustion. That was where the young king found his daughter, knees tucked to her chest and watery eyes angrily attempting to burn holes into the floor. The king eased himself down next to his daughter, allowing them both a moment of silence before pushing the issue at hand.

“So, there’s a rumor going around that someone slaughtered some dresses? I was wondering if you had any information on that.” He shot his daughter an exaggerated look of inquiry, leaning over and nudging her with his shoulder which earned him a reluctant chuckle. “I heard they entered the kingdom covered in ruffles despite the no-ruffles ruling, so whoever did it was just carrying out orders. I’m thinking of knighting them, what do you think?” Another soft chuckle from his daughter who gradually allowed herself to lean into her father’s side.

“I told her I wouldn’t wear dresses to her stupid ball and she said I didn’t have a choice. I don’t even wanna go! Dancing is dumb and boys just step on you and they all smell like sweat and old water.”

“Wait… old water has a smell? Since when? Did you discover a new smell and not tell me?” Benigno’s hands flew to his face in mock shock, gasping in exaggerated wonder.

“Daaaaaaaaad stop!” Whined the young prince, though she was completely unable to fight her grin as she shoved the dramatic king. “I’m serious! I don’t want to wear those stupid dresses and I don’t wanna go to her party. I hate parties.” Catra resumed her huffing and crossed her arms to try and reaffirm her stance on the situation.

“I know Mija, your mother she… she’s just,” he sighed, pondering exactly how to explain what had taken him years to vaguely work out himself. “She doesn’t understand anything that isn’t her way. Sometimes,” he reached out to tuck fallen strands of hair behind his daughter’s ear, “adults get so set in how they think things should be, that they forget that things could ever be different. They’re scared of what they don’t understand. Your mother, underneath it all, is just scared. Scared that if things don’t go exactly her way then everything will fall apart.” It wasn’t perfect, but he hoped he had managed some sort of comfort. He watched his daughter sort things in her head, the familiar feeling of fond fascination at the little twitches in her eyes whenever she was sorting through words and cataloging her thoughts. She was, above all else, brilliant. 

“I’m still not going to the stupid party and doing the stupid dancing.”

“Well I’m afraid that’s unacceptable.” Catra froze and looked to her father in wide-eyed horror, he almost started laughing right there but he had to be serious. Kings needed to be serious sometimes. “Catra, you are a prince and a future king and the king never turns a blind eye to her subject’s distress.”

Well now she was just confused, Catra squinted at her father with her mismatched eyes and studied the ridiculous adult who ruled their world. 

“If what you say is true, and all those boys are just stepping on the toes of innocent maidens, then there is only one thing to do.” He stood, dusted his pants off, and offered a hand down to the 4-foot tall girl that made up his entire world.

“We’re going to have to make sure you know how to lead.”

_____

“Glimmer, can I ask you something?” 

“What’s on your mind?”

Adora was currently basking in the glow of the late afternoon fire crackling in the library, cozied up in an armchair, and browsing through a book of decades-old star charts with the surprisingly knowledgeable candelabra. According to Glimmer, being Catra’s lady-in-waiting wasn’t so much of a hands-on role as it was strategic expertise in fire dousing (figuratively and literally) so it had given her time to pursue personal interests like the night sky and its twinkling residents. 

Adora also suspected personal interests included a certain timepiece whom the candelabra always seemed to either be with or looking for. And it was that observation that bolstered just enough courage in the blonde to push forward with her train of thought.

“How do you, I mean, have you ever had a friend but like you change how you feel? You know… like you want to be friends but also you don’t. Not that you don’t want to be close to them, you want it even more but- wait I’m saying this wrong.”

“Adora, you can just say you want to kiss Catra.” 

Had she been drinking anything, Adora would have undoubtedly choked and departed from this mortal coil right then and there. Instead, she turned a deep shade of scarlet and sputtered a series of incoherent sounds while Glimmer maintained a look of casual amusement. 

“That may have been too harsh. You okay?” Adora nodded with her head hung, face still a warm blotchy mess, feeling increasingly more embarrassed by the second. She shouldn’t have said anything, she should have just kept her thoughts to herself because now… now she was going to have to talk about it.

“Yeah, sorry about that I just… ughhh.” She pressed her palms to her forehead and took a deep breath. “I’m too old to be this bad at this, right?” Glimmer softened at this, opting for a gentler approach than the blunt default she tended to use on Catra.

“First of all, I don’t think there is an age limit on being a mess over liking someone. Go easy on yourself, alright?” Adora dropped her hands back to rest on the book in her lap and nodded as she looked into the fireplace.

“Second, I do know what you mean.” At that Adora seemed to perk  up  and turned to face Glimmer, waiting for her to continue. “It can be scary when you connect with someone so well but you want more. You get scared you’ll lose something special, or that you’re being selfish for feeling those things.” Adora nodded again, leaning closer, hanging off Glimmer’s every word.

“But Adora, wanting something doesn’t make you selfish. And hiding the things you want from the people you care about doesn’t do them any favors. It just means you’re hiding yourself and isn’t that the opposite of being close to someone?” Adora sighed and slumped back into the chair, defeated and torn.

“I don’t know what I want, Glimmer… that’s the problem. I just know I like the way she looks at me and that I’m constantly thinking of ways to make her keep looking. I know I want her to be happy though, I want all of you to be happy.” The candelabra smiled at the blonde’s earnestness.

“That’s very sweet of you Adora and I can’t speak for everyone’s happiness, but I think things have been much nicer with you around.” Adora blushed but managed a small smile. “As for making that idiot happy-”

“I thought we agreed you’d stop talking about me behind my back Sparkles.” Glimmer and Adora both jumped and turned to see Catra walking towards them, hand on her hip and clearly pleased with herself.

“Well then stop giving me reasons to Kitty.” Catra scoffed in fake offense before she dropped herself onto the armrest opposite Glimmer, leaning in till her bicep was pressed up against Adora’s shoulder. A small and likely innocent act that proceeded to overload Adora’s senses as her tongue swelled and she stared straight into the fire for fear direct eye contact would kill her. The sounds of the two bickering faded to the background as that warm smell of cinnamon and autumn air that always followed the hybrid filled Adora’s nose to the point she forgot that other smells even existed. Adora’s shoulder was practically glowing at the continued contact, sending little jolts of nervous excitement to every nerve in her body, ensuring every inch of her was hyper-focused on the closeness.

“Earth to Adora, are you even listening?” Adora came crashing back to reality with the grace of an ox who’d managed to drink a barrel of mead. Red-faced and sputtering, whatever cool she had managed to collect scattered to the wind as Catra’s hand waved in her face as she looked up to see a bright pair of split-colored eyes mere inches from her face. Somehow the blonde had fallen into some middle ground between heaven and hell and she was hardly skilled at masking her emotions under the best circumstances. 

“S-sorry! I uh, I missed that last part? Got distracted by the fire. What are we talking about?” Catra snickered and nudged Adora with her elbow.

“Idiot.” Adora wondered if anyone but Catra could make that sound like a compliment. “Glimmer said you were asking her about balls? Didn’t know you had such fancy tastes princess.”

Adora shot a look of mortified confusion to Glimmer who met her with a self-satisfied smile, clearly pleased with herself. She wasn’t completely clear on Glimmer’s plan, but it’s not like she could say what they had  _ actually _ been discussing. 

“Uh, yeah. I remember you said this used to be a ballroom? I was just wondering about those types of parties, you know? I’ve read about them but I’ve never met someone that actually went to them. They sound like a whole big thing.” Adora briefly remembered a time where she not only excelled at speaking in full sentences but never  even imagine d struggling with the concept. Here she was though, with the elegance of a newborn deer, stumbling her way through a conversation.

Catra studied her for a moment before accepting her answer and leaning back against the chair, still blessedly maintaining contact with Adora’s shoulder. 

“They’re definitely a “whole big thing”. Mother lived for them but after she left I didn’t really see the point, just held a few here and there so Mermista wouldn’t go crazy with nothing to do.” A little smile crept onto Catra’s face as she seemed to recall a memory Adora desperately wanted to know about. To be fair, she wanted to know everything.

“Catra was quite the dancer you know? Practically all the eligible ladies would fight over who got to be on her dance card.” The feline went red at that and shot Glimmer daggers while Adora felt that familiar pit appear in her stomach. Right, because before whatever happened Catra was royalty which meant actual princesses with table manners and delicate features were probably just as smitten by her as Adora was. Catra probably had her pick of beautiful women to keep her company before she was stuck with the local freak. But still, it was bittersweet imagining Catra gliding around a dancefloor with some perfect faceless mystery woman. The two of them laughing as they swayed to the music, Catra spinning her with ease while everyone watched in awed envy. 

“They were not Glimmer. And besides,” Catra’s arm touching Adora’s shoulder shifted as her hand moved to lightly grip the blonde’s arm, “they were all so boring it took any fun out of it.” Adora’s breath caught at the touch and the hybrid’s words gave her the courage to look up into those mesmerizing gemstones, smiling and absolutely hypnotized. 

“Well Adora isn’t boring, you should show her.” Adora was tempted to douse the candelabra herself with the way she kept pushing. But before she could consider the long-term implications of such an act, she felt Catra’s hand squeeze her arm.

“For once Sparkles has a point. Whaddya say, princess, you wanna learn some moves?” And while Adora’s brain had done nothing but fail her so far, it decided to show some mercy and allow her a moment of anxiety-free clarity.

“Yes please.”

_____

“Remember Mija, there is a difference between leading your partner and commanding them.” Catra was standing in the middle of the ballroom, arms crossed and pouting in frustration. She and her father had been practicing dance steps for what must have been an hour and she was still getting it wrong. Catra hated being bad at things, and learning was so annoying.

“This is dumb.” Her father laughed in his warm rich baritone that both delighted and further irritated the little prince. 

“Catra, a lot of things are dumb but that doesn’t mean they aren’t important. Besides, once you get the hang of it I think you’ll like it. I speak from experience that there is nothing quite as lovely as seeing a lady smile when you spin her.” He gave his daughter a wink as her face contorted into a fierce mess of beat red preteen horror.

“Daaaaaaaad stoooooppppp! Ugh that’s so- shut up! I don’t even care, dancing is stupid.” But he was, as always, unaffected by her outburst and continued on in his giddy unbothered way. The king hunched slightly as he took his daughter’s hands and beamed at her. 

“Alright, deep breath and pay attention to how I move, okay? And don’t look at your feet.” She gave a small nod and relaxed a little as her father began counting the rhythm of their steps.

They moved slowly, the steps unfamiliar to Catra but her father gently guided them through it. Catra watched as her father’s shoulder pulled one way when he was about to step backward, how his head would dip a few seconds before they turned, and how he gave her hand a small tug before he was about to spin her. And after a few rounds, they switched, letting the graceful little prince guide them through the steps. At first, she mimicked her father’s cues, but slowly developed her own little indicators and found herself confidently stepping with the king right behind her.

By the time they stopped Catra was genuinely smiling, giggling at the king’s theatrical curtsy before they both laid out on the dancefloor, tired but energized by their own little antics.

“What dance was that?” Catra turned her head to face her father who met her stare with a dazzling grin.

“No idea. To be honest I don’t know that I have any of them memorized.” The prince gaped at the king in irritated shock. 

“What? Then what was the point of teaching me??” He laughed again, carefree and joyful  as if he had just managed an especially good prank.

“So you can learn to lead! When you’re a king you can dance however you want, that’s the best part Catra!” She rolled her eyes and giggled, the poor saps who thought their ruler was some dignified adult. 

“But Catra, the important thing is you can’t make your partner look silly. Make up your own steps or don’t, but when you lead someone you’re promising them they can trust you. You pay attention to them and you meet them where they are. Leading isn’t about you looking good, it’s about being good together.”

Years later, Catra would reflect on that moment, what was likely meant as a precursor for more delicate talks for more serious subjects. Of course, she didn’t get to have those, she was denied the opportunity to learn from him as she got older. But she would always think about that. About leading, about trust, and about being good together. 

_____

With the tables moved out of the way and the last chair shoved against the shelves, Catra took a deep breath before turning to face a very fidgety Adora. Not that she could blame her, Catra was constantly rubbing her palms on her pants in a desperate attempt to keep her fur from matting with sweat. Stupid Glimmer with her stupid ideas that made Adora smile and her stupid heart deafen her with its exuberant thudding. 

The candelabra wasn’t wrong, Catra had been a highly desired dance partner back in the day. Between her father’s lessons and the delicious satisfaction of infuriating her mother with unladylike behavior, she had oozed confidence and grace on the dancefloor. She knew the effect she had on her partners, reveling in their little gasps when she dipped them and the way they’d curtsy at the end with flushed faces before scampering off to tell their friends. It was fun, an egocentric exercise to make social gatherings somewhat tolerable. Glimmer would always roll her eyes at Catra’s casual bravado, and she in turn would pretend to be entirely unaffected.

So the anxiousness constricting her chest as she approached her dance partner was new. The girl had no experience to compare anything to, what was there to be nervous about? Her sweating palms reminded her once more that she was going to be touching Adora, holding her, and yes maybe that could make a girl nervous. 

“So, what do I do? You know, with my hands?” Adora held her palms up and looked at Catra, a soft blush dusting her cheeks and a big dopey grin. How was she like that? Just transparently herself? And while Catra’s familiar ambivalence was nowhere to be found she was overcome with a wave of fondness. 

“Hands? Man, we really are starting with the basics huh princess? This may be too much of a challenge for me.” Adora huffed, crossing her arms and fixing Catra with a mock glare.

“Oh I’m sorry, I thought I was talking to the supposed Cassanova of the dance floor. I didn’t realize teaching one dance would be your undoing. My mistake.”

“Pshh, I can do this in my sleep blondie. I’m just realizing that a lack of shoes could be my downfall when you inevitably smash my toes with your big feet.” Adora’s eyes went wide and she let out a scoff and gave Catra’s shoulder a light shove.

“Excuse me, my feet are a normal size!” And just like that, they were wrestling around on the floor, shoving each other into the carpet with fingers jabbing at ribs as they became a laughing puddle. Just two giggling fools who had managed to banish their own anxieties with the other’s company. 

Eventually, Catra utilized her nimble feline capabilities to her advantage and landed a strong pinch to Adora’s side that reduced the blonde to a boneless sniggering mess. With her enemy defenseless, Catra rolled on top of her and pinned her arms down with a Cheshire cat grin plastered on her face. The victory was finally hers and her prize was…

Everything seemed to have frozen. Adora laid beneath her, breathless and flushed with her lips parted as she stared up at Catra with those soft grey eyes that looked like two pale moons glowing in the night sky. Her hair had slipped from its bun, the ribbon no match for their childish antics, and now pooled around her head like a halo of golden threads. She was beautiful, some sort of goddess made of soft features and firm muscle (Catra was continuously in awe of the absolute strength of someone whose hobby was reading, it seemed wildly unfair). 

The implications of their position slowly dawned on Catra, though she was struck at the way Adora seemed just as lost in the moment as her. The hybrid loosened her grip on Adora’s arms but the blonde didn’t shift, she just continued to stare at Catra like she was in awe of the woman above her. Was she? Her stomach clenched at the concept of hope, the wild notion that this fascinating goof could want her even like this? She could hear the way Adora’s breath came in shallow quick spurts like she was scared to move and break the trance they were under.

She wasn’t sure exactly when her hands fully released Adora’s arms to bracket the blonde’s head, nor was she certain when her left hand had lifted and migrated to her cheek. But the warmth that radiated off Adora’s face and into Catra’s palm was all-encompassing, creeping up her arm and then spreading to all her limbs and making a decent attempt at melting her brain. Adora smiled, leaning into the touch and Catra would swear right there and then that there was no better sensation than Adora’s plush cheek pressed against her hand.

“Hey Catra,” came a gentle whisper, probably the nicest sound Catra had heard to date. An astounding number of records were being broken in the span of a few minutes.

“Hey, Adora.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah.” She could practically hear the gears in Adora’s head-turning as her mouth opened before she decided against it and closed her lips. “What Adora?”

“I just… I was uh, wondering if this is how all dance lessons go?” Catra chuckled and released her cheek, sitting back on her haunches to smile down at the charming idiot beneath her.

“Only the really good ones princess. Now get up, you look stupid down there.” And maybe she would have mourned the loss of their position had it not immediately been replaced with one  of  Adora’s hands on her shoulder and the other clasped safely in Catra’s claws. Her body felt electric as her free hand found residence on the blonde’s hip, pulling her just a little closer and breathing in that familiar scent of turmeric and vanilla. She didn’t miss the way Adora’s muscles tensed and loosened in her grasp, the edge of nervous energy returning to the enchanting enigma in her arms. She smiled to herself and took a little risk, leaning in so her breath ghosted over the blonde’s ear.

“Breathe Adora.” 

She could feel the little shiver that ran through Adora’s body at that and couldn’t help but delight in the power of it. Catra knew how to lead and, despite the way this dork made her heart flutter, she could keep her cool for this.

“Alright, you ready to dance princess?” 

_____

“They’re so cute!” Bow practically wheezed as his little gold handles grasped at one of Glimmer’s  arms  from their secret viewing spot behind the historical fiction section. 

“I’m certain that's not a standard dance sequence but based on Adora’s posture it still seems to be an effective method to achieving closer proximity. If Catra is intending to seduce Adora it appears she’s likely to succeed based on prior exploits.” Bow shot Entrapta a horrified look while Glimmer snickered to herself.

“I mean, the girl only has one surefire move Bow. But still… this is different.”

“I agree,” mused the teapot in her warm sing-song voice, “Catra has never been open like this. For once she isn’t choosing to run from her vulnerability. She’s so much stronger than she used to be.” 

“So… Do we think kitten has the guts to pull this off? I mean, the girl’s bedroom eyes even make me blush but is that enough?” Double Trouble mused in a forced nonchalance that barely managed to cover their obvious nerves.

It was the unspoken weight hanging over their heads as they watched the two women smile and twirl around the fireplace, the flickering flames highlighting the unbridled joy in their steps. It was hard to look at them, giggling and spinning in their own little world, and know that the lives of everyone depended on them. It made Glimmer uneasy and angry all at once.

“It’s not fair.” She seethed, her voice cracking ever so slightly as bitter emotions dared to burst through her carefully crafted veneer of the “in charge” adult. Bow attempted to hold her the best his clock body would allow, another cruel heartbreak settling in as she struggled recalled the last time she had felt his warm arms around her. 

“When was the last time she was happy? When was the last time any of us saw her like this? Even before… she was still so miserable and broken. And what? She finally finds something that makes her happy but that stupid flower is still there counting down. They should be able to do this in their own time. It’s too much pressure!” If she could cry, surely Glimmer’s eyes would be blinded with frustrated tears, but the curse had chipped away at the remnants of their humanity over the years. The ability to cry left them within the first year, a blessing and a curse depending on the day.

The others sat for a moment in solemn silence, watching the oblivious women only a few feet away as they basked in their moment. The candelabra felt another pang of bitterness rip through her as she watched Catra move with a weightless freedom she hadn’t seen in years. 

Sure they bickered and the prince’s sour attitude did plenty to grate her nerves, but Catra had been her constant companion since she was 16. She hired Bow when she saw the way Glimmer lit up when he talked and trusted her completely. Catra was flawed, deeply broken, and made of so many shattered pieces but she had never been beyond hope. Those little moments of softness had always been there for those willing to wait her out. And hadn’t she earned this? After all, this time didn’t she deserve a break?

“You’re right Glim,” soothed Bow in an effort to be the strong one so the lady-in-waiting could be granted a moment of weakness. “You’re absolutely right, but we don’t have any say in this. We just have to hope.”

_____

After hours that flowed like minutes, Catra gave Adora one final spin before pulling the blonde close. Chests heaving as they tried to catch their breath, hearts racing from the movements and the way neither seemed to object to such closeness.

“Wow princess, you’re pretty good. And here I figured you’d have to carry me out of here after stepping on my toes.“ Adora gave Catra’s shoulder a playful shove, hoping to distract her from the rose in her cheeks. It didn’t work but Catra was all the more smitten. 

“Well, maybe that would have happened but you’re actually a pretty good teacher. I can see why all those girls wanted you for a partner. I-,” Adora stammered and looked at a shelf just to the right of Catra’s face, “I would have liked to see you in action. I bet you were the main event at every party.” 

And then Catra had a vision, a delirious waking dream that overtook her brain and demanded her full attention. Another ball, like the extravagant nonsense her mother would throw, but instead of Catra weaving through the crowds and flirting to pass the time she would have Adora on her arm. Beautiful, silly, tender, and fierce Adora by her side and she would guide her to the middle of the floor so everyone could see her. And she’d dance with her just like her father taught her, make the whole world stop and watch the blonde spin and smile while Catra guided her through the steps. 

Everyone would be struck with both unimaginable admiration and sweeping envy. Even Catra herself was filled with jealousy at this dream version of herself who was so lucky to have this moment with Adora. Because dream Adora was glowing like an ethereal angel, so filled with unbridled affection and goodness that Catra had sworn no longer existed in the world. The dream faded and she was once again gazing into Adora’s softhearted eyes; all she wanted was to give the woman in her arms everything.

It broke her heart that she couldn’t but… maybe…

“Let’s do it.” The blonde blinked in surprise and tilted her head, unaware of the effect every single thing she did had on Catra. How was she so… adorable… ugh.

“I’m throwing a ball, tomorrow. Food, drinks, music, dancing, the whole thing. And this is your personal invitation, princess.” She couldn’t hide the excitement in her voice, her hands had moved to excitedly grip Adora’s own. “What do you think? Would you- would you want that?”

Something flashed in Adora’s eyes, something like hesitance that would have sent Catra into a spiral had the corners of the blonde’s lips not quirked  up into a bashful smile.

“Could we umm, go together?” 

Catra’s first instinct was to roll her eyes at such an obvious question but her brain knew better and instead, she released Adora’s hands so she could bow to the charming dork before her.

“Adora, it would be an honor.” When she stood back up she was rewarded with the most full-faced dazzling smile she’d ever seen. It was stunning, just like Adora, and Catra would have loved nothing more than to live forever in that moment as the person that made that smile happen. There was nothing better than this.

That is until the blonde’s hands found residence on her hips and gave the slightest tug forward. Adora’s lips came to meet Catra’s in an eager breathy wish. 

Catra was frozen in shock for barely a second before she returned the kiss, reveling in the way their lips slot together like they were simply two puzzle pieces who had spent years waiting to find each other. And hadn’t they? Catra’s hands came up to hold Adora’s perfect face in her hands, cradling those flushed cheeks in her palms as her eyes fluttered shut in blissful surrender.

Adora’s lips were soft but also the brightest fire, a hundred feet high and a force so powerful you can do little but stand in its heat and watch it consume the whole of you. She tasted like a mix of Perfuma’s licorice root tea and something summery and earthy that was just uniquely Adora. All of Catra’s senses were being flooded with the genuine majesty of Adora and she hoped she would never come up for air.

Catra felt the moment Adora’s hands shifted from her hips, her arms encircling her waist and pulling the hybrid closer to her. A little gasp at the blonde’s sudden boldness left her mouth open and Adora wasted no time deepening the kiss, her tongue freely exploring the depths of Catra’s mouth as though to claim it. 

Her actions pulled a small moan from some deep hidden part of Catra that had forgotten what it felt like to be wanted like this. To be hungered for, to have someone so desperate for the feel of her. What made it all the more wonderful was that it was Adora who wanted her. Brilliant, thoughtful, patient, dorky, stunning beyond all measure Adora wanted her.

All good things must come to an end though, and with great reluctance the two finally pulled apart, panting and dazed staring into the other’s eyes. 

“Wow.” Catra could die right there, breathless and enamored in the arms of this idiot. She chuckled and lowered her hands to let them rest on  the blonde’s chest, her thumbs stroking at Adora’s collarbones.

“Don’t ruin it.” Adora simply giggled, leaning forward to let her  forehead bump against Catra’s, her features a mix of triumph and peace. 

_____

Later that evening, not long after parting to their rooms, Catra laid awake in bed too excited for the next day to allow herself to sleep. Her brain could only loop their kiss on repeat as she searched for new details to focus on, like the way she could clearly  hear Adora’s heartbeat or all  the  different shades of pink she had turned in the span of a few minutes. But mostly, she was stuck on the fact it had happened at all.

She wondered if Adora was thinking about it too. It looked like she had liked it, she’d initiated after all, right? But what if…

_ Who would be content to kiss some monstrous house pet? _

Her voice rang out in her head, like nails on a chalkboard sending those achingly familiar chills through her body. The constant voice in the back of her head, even after years of absence she could still ruin Catra’s happiness.

_ She’s your prisoner Catra, she would do anything to earn your favor. And you’re so emotional, so easy to read, easy to fool. How embarrassing. _

Eyes screwed shut and her palms pressed tightly against her ears, almost painfully smashing them into her skull. 

“Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!” How? How could that horrible old hag still have so much power? And she was wrong, she had to be. Adora wasn’t like that, she wore her heart on her sleeve and was so stupidly genuine.

_ Foolish child, no one is without motive. _

Catra sat up in a cold sweat, trembling, and terrified. What if she was right? What if Catra was so lonely and desperate she… no. Please no. She had to be wrong, her mother was always wrong. 

Then an idea struck her, an old long-forgotten idea. She scrambled out of bed and ran to her dresser, digging through layers of clothes and forgotten pieces of who she used to be till her hands found cold metal. Her fingers wrapped around the mirror’s handle and pulled till she was faced with the bitter sight of her own reflection. 

A “gift” from the sorceress all those years ago, she had enchanted an old hand mirror that had been passed down to the women of her father’s family. In a day filled with blind rage and self-loathing, she had been on a quest to shatter every mirror in her path. When she had found this she had barely hesitated, so far drowned in her own emotions she almost missed the way the mirror had glowed in her hand. A surge of some strange power had come from the object and caused the prince to pause her destruction and observe.

The mirror was cruel, a way to see the world that had moved on without her or to watch and wait to see what her cursed staff would say about her when she wasn’t around. It turned out they mostly just carried on with their lives as best they could… and consoled each other in moments of sorrow. It was after a particularly dreadful vision of her lady-in-waiting screaming in an empty room, chest heaving with sobs clearly long overdue for release, that Catra threw the mirror into her dresser and vowed to never use it again.

But now, now her head was clouded with visions of Adora in her room retching at the thought  of  Catra touching her. Laughing at the pathetic sounds the warped feline had made. Disgusted at the monster who ruled this broken corner of her kingdom.

With a deep breath and shaking hands, she broke her rule and commanded the mirror, “Show me Adora.” And the ancient heirloom glowed, a swirling cloud of smoke danced inside the glass until it parted to show her Adora.

Giggling and delighted Adora who was holding court with Scorpia and Perfuma, eyes sparkling and hands bunched in her lap as the wardrobe and teapot cheered, showering her in congratulations. The blonde was blushing,  but  wasn’t she always? Catra held her breath as she watched Adora’s hand go to her mouth, fingers tracing the lips Catra now knew the taste of, and smiled. She ended the vision right there and placed the mirror on her nightstand with what felt like a sort of grateful reverence. 

She would dream of Adora that night, as she had so many nights since the girl’s arrival. But this time when she dreamed it wasn’t some far away fantasy that would feel cruel in the morning light. 

Because Adora had kissed her.

Because Adora wanted her.

_____

“Odd for sure, but she seems harmless to me.” The gruff mountain of a woman spoke, sipping her ale as she watched the little old lady chittering away to the bartender who was attempting to feign interest. She was eccentric for sure but hardly looked like a threat to anyone. “So what’s the catch, I don’t enjoy wasting my time.”

Huntara looked to Prime, the over-zealous war hero had requested her presence tonight, and were it not for the free ale and obligations of her role she wouldn’t be here. While he was clearly a town favorite, she had never been a fan. Maybe it was the way he smiled like it was something he practiced instead of coming to naturally, or how his eyes had a vacancy in them as though they had never connected to his soul.

But liking someone wasn’t her job. She came to towns to collect troubled residents and take them away, back to the asylum where they could be looked after. Huntara couldn’t speak to what  that  treatment actually looked like, she was just the muscle. No one came willingly, and she couldn’t blame them, but strength was an indisputable must in this line of work and it paid well. 

The man smirked at her from across the table before leaning in, his voice low and conspiratorial.

“Our dear Razz has fallen quite ill. While it is sad to see, her mental faculties are fading too fast for any of us to keep up. Her poor granddaughter did what she could, but even she was so overwhelmed by it that she ran away from the burden. Heartbreaking really, isn’t it Hordak?”

Huntara glanced to the man sitting silently to Prime’s right, staring into his pint of mead like he was burdened and desperate that relief could be found at the bottom of the glass. He was startled back to reality at Prime’s prompting, his eyes darting between the man and the woman watching him.

“Ah… yes. Well, no one has seen Adora so we-”, Huntara didn’t miss the sound of a shuffle beneath the table as Hordak flinched at what she assumed was a swift kick to the shin. He straightened and met her eyes dead-on, “Adora took their family horse and ran, it’s as Prime described.” She didn’t fully understand the real underlying reason for this push to lock the woman away, but she knew enough to know that Prime was the puppetmaster. 

“It is a shame, Adora was a cherished member of our community and none are as beloved in our eyes as Razz but lately her ranting has caused discomfort in the town. We fear she is a danger to herself, her ravings are so drenched in fantasy I cannot idly stand by as a spectator any longer.” Huntara would roll her eyes were she so inclined to such petty reactions.

“Do you have any proof outside of your own opinions? I’m not so inclined to pull old women from their homes without evidence.” She didn’t like the way Prime grinned at that, as though he had been waiting for her to ask and delighted in the opportunity.

“Why of course. Hordak, would you be so kind as to invite Razz over to join us?” The morose sidekick stood, his poorly disguised inner conflict warring in his brain as he shuffled away to retrieve the old woman. She came to the table easily, either unaware of the conversation taking place or simply unbothered by it.

“Hello dearie, my what a strong one you are. My Adora is strong too, she’d like you I’m sure.” Huntara smiled at the old woman and nodded in greeting. Before she could ask anything more, Prime leaned towards Razz practically vibrating with glee.

“We were just telling our friend here about your Adora, such a pity she’s missed her.” He paused, that sick glint in his eye so sharp like a predator toying with its food. “Dear Razz, where did you say she was again?”

“At the castle of course! Stupid boy, I told you that.” Prime’s smile never faltered. Castle? Something far away clawed at the back of her brain but she couldn’t think of a castle within hundreds of miles from here.

“A castle?” She asked, catching the old woman’s interest as she turned to give the intimidating woman a warm smile. 

“Why of course dearie, the one in the woods! She’s staying with that prince, lovely girl but a terrible grump.” She laughed to herself, unaware  of the damage her words were doing. 

“And what about this prince, Razz, what was it you said about him?” Prime switched his gaze to Huntara and she felt a chill at his sick enthusiasm.

“ _ Her, _ you buffoon!” The old woman scolded, before turning her attention back to the formidable woman and her ale. “She’s under a curse, poor thing, but she’s got a temper. My Adora can handle her though, I think Mara wanted them to meet you see. They both needed someone new.” 

“Curse?” Huntara barely choked out.

“Well of course dearie! You don’t grow a tail and claws like that on your own.” Huntara hated her job sometimes, especially when it was the nice ones.

“You saw someone with a tail and claws?” Razz huffed like Huntara was asking her something boneheaded and obvious.

“Well of course, the poor thing was turned into a giant cat! Mara knows why but the poor thing is particularly beastly, she scared my Adora quite terribly when she locked her in that dungeon.”

“Adora, your granddaughter, is in a dungeon?” 

“Well, I doubt that at this point dearie, my Adora is too smart to let someone lock her away!” Huntara sighed a heavy sigh.

“So, a cat monster has your granddaughter locked away in her castle in the woods?” The old woman beamed, pleased that someone understood her.

“Precisely! Now it was lovely to meet you dearie but I must get home and put my old bones to rest. You, I could do without.” She shot a pointed look to Prime before tottering out of the bar and into the night.

Huntara stared after her for a few moments more before turning to see Prime slide a small bag of gold coins across the table. She begrudgingly took it, counting the pieces one by one before meeting the man’s gaze.

“We trust you can be discreet? We certainly wouldn’t want to cause the townspeople any unnecessary grief at her removal.”

She stood, pocketing the gold and rubbing at that spot in her neck that always ached when she was faced with  the  stresses of a particularly unpleasant extraction.

“Give me a day to prepare everything, I can get her tomorrow night when everyone is already inside.” The man stood and held out his hand to her, his delight evident in his features.

“A pleasure doing business with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was Glimmer a little too pushy? Maybe. Is she tired of being a glorified candlestick holder? YUP.
> 
> How we feeling? This was a beast to write (ahahaha self five) but it's here! Sorry my posting schedule has gotten wonky but I'm hoping the break will help me catch up.
> 
> Big thanks to 
> 
> [Pandoras_Hope Who](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pandoras_hope/pseuds/Pandoras_hope) Who once again took time from Nanowrimo to edit this and boy howdy did it need it. Like, wow. Without them this would be a weird jumbly mess where I write the same word like 8 times in a row.
> 
> [Dragon_loves_books](https://www.instagram.com/dragon_loves_books/) Who keeps making dope awesome emotional AF art for this fic and I'm just so floored by it and use their work as real motivators when I have block.
> 
> [Dem_bones](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dem_bones/pseuds/dem_bones) Who taught me how to hyperlink and honestly what a gift that was and now I'm drunk with power.
> 
> Quick Note: As the tags for this story imply the rating of this story is likely to change soon but I will still be writing it so those who don't want to read smuff can skip it without missing out on any huge plot pieces. 
> 
> Thank you all for such wonderful comments and for reading this brain rot <3 See you next week!


	8. Something There

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some time spent in the study before the ball.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, so as an FYI this chapter gets steamy but not full on smut yet.  
> This chapter wasn't really planned and you may have noticed I had to add a chapter to the total count (why I do this to myself I'll never know).
> 
> Long story short, the ball is the next chapter. Don't hate me.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

When Adora woke up the next morning her eyes shot open, a swarm of butterflies immediately taking flight in her insides as her brain shouted to her in uncontrollable glee, “Catra kissed you back!” The thought made her face split into a grin so wide it hurt but that just made it better, just meant it was so genuine her own body couldn’t contain it. She let out a soft squeal (so as not to wake Scorpia) and turned on her side so she could crunch into an elated little ball of energy. Her mind was all too eager to repeat the event against the backdrop of her closed eyes.

It was when she bowed to her, saying “It would be an honor” like some noble hero in a fairytale, that something inside Adora’s heart clicked. Like one of Razz’s little trinkets with their intricate cogs, whirring to life with the final piece in place, Adora gazed at the miraculous woman before her and felt some needy wanting part take her over. Rarely did she allow herself to want, even rarer did she take, but when Catra’s eyes met hers and she saw the way they sparkled with delight and anticipation she couldn’t do anything but meet her.

And that was how her hands found Catra’s hips, pulling her close and bringing their lips together; making one final plea to the powers that be that she hadn’t misread things. But Catra kissed her back. Mysterious, mischievous, striking, whip-smart Catra kissed her back. Her hands had cupped Adora’s cheeks like she wasn’t some bumpkin playing princess in an enchanted palace but something treasured and fragile. Like the blonde would break if not handled with the utmost care and caution. Maybe she would though, maybe were it not for Catra’s soft touches and the way she met Adora’s shy hunger with delicate fervor Adora would have fallen apart right there and then. 

Adora had kissed two people in her life prior to that moment. Both she mentally referred to as “practice”, though “testing” may have been more appropriate. The first had been an anxious young boy when she was 8, he and Adora both were on the outs with their peers and spent many an afternoon playing games where no one could see them. Adora was good at fighting bullies but Kyle was scrawny and skittish and she wasn’t looking to fight on both their behalfs. When he asked one day if he could kiss her she had said yes. He was a nice enough boy and he never called her names so she supposed if she were to like a boy he would be her best bet. The kiss was fast and chaste but all Adora could think was that it lasted an eternity and his thin lips felt like squirmy worms. 

Later he would tell her he had kissed another boy, the quiet brutish fellow who came to market with his mother on Saturdays and had liked it much more than kissing Adora. She was happy  that they both agreed it was gross. 

Adora was 16 when she and Razz had been traveling to a specialty trade market. They had stopped at an inn run by a lovely couple and their daughter. While the adults chatted at the table after dinner, their daughter took Adora’s hand and took her outside to lay in the grass and look at stars. Lonnie was bold and unafraid, her voice had a smooth timbre to it and her laugh had an infectious biting snark to it. 

At one point her fingers brushed against Adora’s and for half a beat they simply locked eyes with each other before the other girl leaned in and kissed Adora. This one was hungrier than her first, hormones likely a leading factor for the two of them. But Lonnie was so different, as their eager hands roamed the other Adora noted how soft she was but achingly firm and she felt heat pool beneath her navel before shooting white fire through every nerve in her body. The sloppy make out and heavy petting had been wonderful, a memory Adora would revisit now and then when she was alone at night, but still… something was missing.

That missing thing had been Catra. 

Kissing Catra was just like the stories had said, but better. They had told  her  it would be magical and beautiful while they fell into their own world, but they didn’t tell her how hungry it would make her. How, unlike any other kiss, her body would scream that this was what she needed to live. That whoever she was before this had only lived half a life like she had been sitting in a nicely lit room only  to have the curtain ripped down and have the space filled with a blinding warm light like nothing she’d ever known. 

And when Catra moaned… Adora hugged herself tighter into her ball as that familiar throb reverberated from her core and thrummed all the way to her fingertips. She gripped her fists and tried to imagine she was gripping Catra again. If she concentrated she could taste her again, warm and velvety like coffee with that almond liquor Razz had brought home once. Catra had practically melted in her arms and Adora wanted nothing more than to kiss the woman till she was a boneless mess held up only by the blonde’s arms. 

Would Catra let her do that? She had smiled at her so tenderly when they parted, even with a fang poking over her lip. Adora had never seen someone so soft. Surely she would want to do that again right? It didn’t feel like a one-time thing,  and  Adora desperately needed it to not be. 

Looking out the window it still looked early and Catra wasn’t one to rise before noon on her own. Maybe… was she allowed to wake her like she used to? Were things different? Old anxieties began to call her name from the shadows just surrounding the edges of Adora’s good mood, inching closer and closer by the second. She needed to do something, a walk maybe? Yes, a walk would be perfect. 

Adora dressed the quietest she had ever managed in her life, tossing on her old blue frock and some slippers before creeping past the wardrobe and out the door. The maze of castle hallways was familiar to her now, though this morning she didn’t have a particular end goal in mind and let her whims guide her. Her pace was quick and silent, hoping in some way that she could outpace her insecurities and self-doubt and hideaway in the pleasant glow of the night before.

Maybe Glimmer and Bow were around? They seemed to know Catra pretty well, maybe they could help. Or Perfuma, she was always quick with a calming thought and soothing affirmations. Hell, the saucy feather duster with their proclivity for costume changes and unprompted dramatic monologues would be a welcome distraction. Adora was so lost in thought she missed the distant padding of feet sprinting towards her until it was too late and she was the victim of a hit and tumble as she and the speeding force went catapulting backward and smacking into the ground.

“Shit! Adora, hey are you okay?” The blonde slowly blinked, groaning at the throbbing from where her shoulder had made first impact. Not an ideal start to the morning, but when she realized it was Catra hovering above her with a worried look on her face she immediately forgot any aches and pains. Well, ignored them, even Catra couldn’t banish injury that easily. She sat up though, breath caught in her chest as she took in the sight of Catra panting from a mix of panic and exertion. 

“I’m fine! Are you, what are you running from?” Adora could hear herself smiling like an idiot but it didn’t seem to matter because the mischievous shimmer in Catra’s eyes only sharpened.

“Sparkles is already trying to gussy me up for tonight if you can believe it, she even threatened to brush my hair.” She smirked at Adora, that one-fanged smile that made her heart falter in function and her stomach attempt to either crawl up her throat or out her butt, she couldn’t tell.

“I- I like your hair…” Adora whispered, far softer than she intended, and Catra’s features transitioned from playful to fond. She chuckled to herself before reaching out and holding Adora’s face in her warm palm, thumb stroking the pink cheek. 

“Thanks, princess, I’m a fan of yours too.” Her thumb gave one last brush to her cheek before drifting to twine some of the blonde locks draped on her shoulder through her clawed fingers. The contrast of soft warm strands of sunshine against sharp shining ebony captivated Adora for a second. Catra made everything tender and dangerous all at once.

“Hey Catra, can we… umm…” Catra’s gaze was patient, smiling at Adora while she stumbled through her words. “So about last night, did you... I mean I don’t want to assume…” 

“Use your words, Adora.” A kind command. 

“Well, we didn’t talk about it but umm, was that okay? I mean, I didn’t ask you but it felt like you liked it?” To her utter dismay, Catra was smirking at her, and every ounce of go get ‘em attitude that had compelled her last night was nowhere to be found. Maybe if she wished hard enough a hole would appear and swallow her up. Stupid Adora, stupid desperate silly Adora who couldn’t manage a-

“Adora, hey, look at me.” That hand was back on her face and forcing her to stare back at the woman in front of her. “Of course I liked it, dummy. I’m only mad I didn’t have the guts to beat you to it.” Adora brightened at that, the frown lines in her face retreating as her mouth dared to creep into a lopsided grin. 

“Yeah?” Catra rolled her eyes but her hand remained, supportive and soft. Right as she was about to respond the sound of grumbled shuffling could be heard coming from down the hall. As it grew close Adora could swear she heard Glimmer’s voice and something along the lines of, “stupid cat” and “gonna drown her when I get the chance.” Catra’s ears twitched before she returned her attention back to Adora, thumb stroking her cheek before dropping to clutch her bicep (Adora most certainly didn’t flex, she was just tense and… shut up).

“Yeah dummy. So much so,” Catra’s face broke into a devious Cheshire cat grin, “that I was thinking we could pick up where we left off while I hide from Glimmer. Whaddya say?” And the next thing Adora knew her hand was clasped tight in Catra’s as the hybrid pulled her down the halls, running full speed and laughing in spite of the exertion. By the time Catra finally stopped in front of some seemingly random room and ushered Adora in the two were breathless and positively glowing in  mischievous  delight. 

Adora stood in the center of the dimly lit room, hands braced on knees as she attempted to catch her breath between giggles. Catra tried to shush her as she kept her ear pressed to the door, but her own snickering was hardly any quieter and Adora would simply shoot her mocking hushes in return. After a few moments of a very loud round of back and forth shushing, Catra abandoned her post and pressed her back to the door so she could slowly slide to the ground. With legs outstretched and the tip of her tail languidly thumping on the ground, Catra held up her index finger to beckon Adora over. The giggles stopped as the nerves returned, Adora’s brain screaming “please be smooth” and “are you sweating, stop sweating” simultaneously.

The blonde mustered whatever collected sort of mind power she had left and made her way towards Catra, stopping by her feet, looking down at the amused hybrid whose eyebrow was quirked in amusement. 

“You just gonna stand there, or…?” Catra was grinning up at her like the cat who caught the canary, but this particularly canary felt less like a prize and more like a floundering mackerel. Adora tried to summon the version of her from the library who simply stepped forward and kissed the woman before her, no self-doubt screaming in her ear or leaden legs holding her back. She had just gone for it, and hadn’t she been rewarded? Catra had kissed her back.

And she wanted to kiss her again.

So Adora let her body move of its own accord, silencing the anxieties playing in the back of her mind, as she stood above Catra’s legs and slowly lowered herself till she was straddling her hips. Catra’s eyes were wide, clearly caught off guard once again at the blonde’s boldness. Good, maybe Adora could just keep her in a perpetual state of shock before she could catch on to what a mess she really was.

“How’s this?” She whispered, face so close she could feel Catra’s breath tickle her cheeks with every shuddering exhale. Something flashed through Catra’s eyes as she gazed up at the woman on top of her, but before Adora could think to chase it she felt the feline’s arms move around her waist, her hands firmly planting where her spine met the small of her back.

“Beautiful”, was all Catra managed before she leaned up and tugged Adora close enough so their lips could crash together once again.

It was different than their first kiss, now Adora was holding Catra’s face in her hands and relishing in the soft fur that tickled at her palms, slowly letting her fingers crawl into her thick mane of hair until they were blissfully engulfed. Catra’s hands were moving as well, her left hand moved to Adora’s hip as her thumb ran tormentingly slow circles into the spot right above where her thigh and hip met. Her other was running delicate lines up and down the blonde’s back, each run bringing her just a little closer to the base of Adora’s neck causing the blonde to shudder under her caress. 

And her lips, Adora didn’t realize how much she had missed the feel of them. They had only kissed once but Adora already knew it was her favorite sensation and that every second without them was a half-life. She felt Catra’s tongue stroke ever so slightly at her bottom lip with a heated request for her to part her lips, a request she gladly granted as a roaring heat was building in her core. As Catra’s tongue delicately ran the circumference of Adora’s mouth, her left hand drifted to the blonde’s thigh and gripped at the flesh that felt overwhelmingly hot through her skirt. 

It was a sensation like she’d never felt. Under all of Catra’s tender yet assertive ministrations Adora felt like a canvas at the glorious mercy of a skilled painter and their brush. Each stroke  was  both maddening and breathtaking and filled her with a mounting sort of desperation she hadn’t known till this moment. And what could she do with that tension? She’d long lost the ability to track her own hands, fingers deeply buried in Catra’s hair, drunk on tugging and releasing the hybrid’s wild mane. Her brain was a foggy mess of wanting and need she couldn’t explain, not that she wanted to do anything that caused the kissing to stop. 

So with her mind blank and her senses overwhelmed, Adora was just as surprised as Catra when her hips gave a needy buck while a moan ripped out of her into Catra’s open mouth. 

The kissing stopped, Catra pulled back with a look of stunned shock and something akin to blind euphoria. But Adora didn’t see that. The moment she heard and felt her body betray her she found her hands once more as they slammed into her face, covering her horrified shame. She was confused and every fiber of her being was yelling at her for the abrupt stop and screaming to reclaim Catra’s mouth again.

“Adora… hey, what’s wrong?” Catra’s voice was gentle, cautiously considerate, her hands now lightly gripping at Adora’s forearms in hopes she could coax the blonde into facing her. “Adora, talk to me. Please?”

Adora finally relented, letting her hands drift to her lap where they immediately began picking at the skin around her fingernails. Her face wasn’t it’s usual sweet blushing pink but a blotchy shameful red, and her eyes were clouded with unwarranted shame. Catra puzzled over the reaction, things had been going so well. Crazy well. Adora was… hot. 

No that wasn’t right, Adora was like that first breath of fresh air when you’ve been cooped away for too long. She filled Catra, so fresh and free and every inch of Catra’s insides seemed to make room in hopes that Adora’s being could fill those empty spaces. And then she made that sound, so much grander and  more  captivating than any of the music or performances Catra had seen in her royal life. Catra had felt the glorious jolt of Adora’s hips and thought she had gone to heaven right there. But then it stopped and now… now she was faced with this hesitant mess who had retreated so far into herself Catra wondered if she could even hear her anymore.

“I… I’ve never been like this before. I’m sorry.” The words were barely a murmur and were it not for Catra’s feline sense she might have missed it. But she didn’t, instead, she heard the sorrowful confession of the woman in her lap and her heart sank. Sorry? What did she have to be sorry about?

“Adora, hey, look at me.” Her hand came to softly cradle the blonde’s chin and tip it up till their eyes met. “You have nothing to apologize for. What’s going on?” The blonde’s lower lip trembled and she slumped a little, her shoulders coming forward as her frame caved in on itself. The complete shift in her demeanor only stoked the growing panic in the pit of Catra’s stomach.

“I- I know you’ve been with other people… like royalty and umm, I don’t know, high society people. But I’ve never… been with anyone before. Especially someone like you.” Catra’s eyes narrowed at that and Adora flew into a frazzled alarm. “Not like the curse part the, the prince part! Catra you’re a prince! And I’m- I’m nobody! I’m the least-liked person in every room I walk into. And you’re so handsome, beautiful, and I’m just some plain yokel that wandered into your home. You could have anyone but you’re stuck with me and I... “ Adora hung her head again, determined to burn a hole into her own hands. “I just wanted to be... nice enough for you. Not some amorous mess.”

Catra’s heart had shattered at least 5 times throughout Adora’s explanation. What had gone from nervous confusion had turned into heartbreaking realization. She remembered all those little moments where Adora’s mind had drifted somewhere else only to come crashing back with a forced smile. Like when she had wandered out of her bathroom, loose hair draped over her shoulders, and looking positively breathtaking were it not for the hesitation in her features. Or her anxious uncertainty when presented with the library. Hell, the way she had looked so nervous this morning despite having already made out the night before. Her breathtaking ray of light, the force of nature that roused her from sleep each morning with her bright goofy smile, the most beautiful woman Catra had ever laid eyes on thought she wasn’t worthy. 

Catra could have laughed right then and there at the absolute absurdity of the notion that between the two of them, Adora was the one who needed to be self-conscious. Catra, cursed with feline features and trapped in the walls of a decaying castle, was the obvious choice for a regrettable romantic interest, and yet there was Adora. Sweet, silly, glorious, sexy Adora was in her lap looking small and defeated. Catra couldn’t stand it, but feelings like this weren’t really where she shined. Scorpia would be good now, or maybe Glimmer’s particular brand of “smack you across the face” self-love would do the trick? But she knew it had to be her. She had brought this out of Adora and it was hers to help.

Catra let out a heavy sigh and tried to give Adora her most reassuring smile, her hands moving till she had Adora’s face in her palms. The blonde seemed surprised by the gesture and Catra’s gut wrenched at the brimming tears collecting at the corners of her eyes. One even attempted a daring journey down her cheek but Catra’s thumb was there to catch it and wipe it clean.

“Adora, first of all, I don’t know much about who you were before this but I want to make it perfectly clear that from what I can tell, every single person in your village is an idiot. Like, I’m talking the bone-headed window-licking type of idiot. Anyone that can’t immediately tell that you’re amazing is stupid.” Adora’s eyes were wide and her breathing quiet as she let Catra’s words sink in. She was captivated by the hybrid’s words and even cracked a little smile at the praise. Good. No more tears, anything but that.

“Second, and this is a big one, you are not a bumpkin. You are the most amazing woman I have ever met. And I would bet my entire,” she released Adora’s cheek to motion wildly around to their surroundings, “whatever I have that I will never meet anyone like you.” The blotchy patches on Adora’s face were replaced with that sweet rosy flush Catra had come to treasure. 

For a moment she was distracted by the idea of the  sight of that flush first thing in the morning, strands of gold strewn across a pillow, and soft eyes looking over at her. 

_ Focus Catra _ . Adora was still staring at her, hands stilled and breath no longer shuddering with nerves. Time to bring it home. Catra gripped those rough warm hands in hers, threading their fingers together and then pulling them to her mouth for a soft kiss.

“Last, but not least, you are without a doubt the most beautiful person I have ever laid eyes on. And all I have been able to think about since last night was how much I wanted to kiss you again.” At that, Adora’s face broke out into that smile. The radiant glowing one that made Catra feel alive all over again, the smile so dazzling and genuine she could almost forget all the awful things that had happened in her life before this. It was her favorite smile.

“Really?” Such a stupid question but wasn’t it a beautiful sound.

“Yes, dummy. Come here.” And with that their lips found each other once more, bodies colliding as Adora wrapped her arms around her neck and one hand held the base of Catra’s head. Meanwhile, the hybrid was incapable of picking just one place for her hands, first caressing Adora’s face before drifting down her arms then grabbing at her hips and enticing another wonderful moan from the goddess in her lap.

This kiss was hungrier than the first two, there was heat and wildness to it. They needed to be closer, Adora was stifling back whimpers as she tried to better angle herself to access Catra but couldn’t in their position. When Catra’s hand began a slow trek up to her ribcage, Adora’s hips bucked again in a plea for friction and Catra made the executive decision that this would be much much easier if they were on the floor. With a wicked giggle, Catra leaned to the side and pulled Adora with her, the other gasping as they semi-gracefully thudded to the floor.

Before Adora could comment on their new position, she was faced with a new one as Catra had braced herself above Adora; limbs trapping her in place. But Adora didn’t think of it that way. Her eyes were wide and shimmering like liquid silver, excited and  practically  humming with pent-up anticipation. 

_____

  
  


Catra lifted one hand, slowly running her claws up Adora’s  body  from the hollow of her hips and stopping right below the swell of her breast. She looked away from her ministrations, her hand twitching with nerves, to meet Adora’s gaze straight on. 

She just wanted to do anything and everything for the breathtaking whimpering puddle of a woman beneath  her . Whatever Adora wanted she would get. Catra hadn’t forgotten what she was, a cursed monster lurking in the halls of her haunted life. But if Adora wanted her, if she was to be granted this gift of having this idiot look at her like she was salvation instead of certain doom, who was she to deny her. 

“Do you-,” her voice cracked a little like Catra was once again a nervous teen shaking under the immense pressure of craving more, “Ah… I mean, is this okay?” She needed to be absolutely sure. That nagging voice in the back of her head  was still convinced that surely this couldn’t last. 

But instead, Adora’s lips parted and rewarded Catra with the most divine sound she’d ever heard.

“Please.”

Catra could swear she felt flames rip through all the nerves in her body as she grasped Adora’s breast in her hand. Transfixed by the sensation of the warm mound under her palm, the hardened nipple apparent even under cloth, her fingers flexed as they massaged the gentle flesh. Adora’s hands flew to Catra’s shirt collars and nearly threw off Catra’s balance as she let out a whine, needy and much louder than any sound she’d made prior. The idea of the sounds she’d make if Catra wasn’t encumbered by clothes put all of the hybrid’s other fantasies to shame. She could just imagine Adora saying her name in that tone with that need, the absolute majesty of it.

Adora was wound so tight, every sensation seemed to send a jolt through her as she wiggled and moved in desperate hope for friction. Catra lowered her head till her lips hovered at the nape of Adora’s neck, letting her breath send shivers down the blonde’s spine. Adora’s hips jerked again and Catra couldn’t deny her another moment, adjusting her knee to sit between the blonde’s thighs, pressing against her heat. 

If Catra could have seen Adora’s eyes she would have been incapable of restraining her smile as a shock that overcame the blonde’s features melted away almost instantly into a hungry bliss. But she heard the way Adora sucked  in  her breath and slowly released it in shuddering pants as she began to testingly rub herself against Catra’s knee. She felt Adora’s fingers thread themselves in her hair and tug the feline’s face fully into her neck. 

Catra rewarded her bravery with tender kisses and bites up and down the length of her neck, tempted to mark her but unwilling to without explicit consent. But she chased the girl’s gasps and whispered pleas of “Catra”, nibbling at her ear lobes and whispering hushed words of encouragement. Alone in the long-abandoned study, they are like kindl ing doused in oil, one quick spark  away from an explosion that could change everything.

The feline could feel her face start to hurt from smiling at the exquisite experience of the woman beneath her, discovering something new, the unparalleled joy of being the one to make her sound like this. The blessing of making her move like this. Adora’s hips are frantic now, rushed and overcome with a need for more she doesn’t know how to explain. 

“Catra, I- I need… please I,” another gasp and those fingers tug at her hair, a request to look in her eyes, and Catra is almost breathless at the sight of them. That something so perfect could exist, here and now in this castle. Those eyes that soothe and stoke her simultaneously and she just wants them to keep looking at her. She wants to see what they look like when Adora falls over that precipice and Catra is the one to catch her. 

“Anything Adora, anything you want.” And that hand begins to travel once more, giving Adora’s breast one last squeeze before claws drag achingly slow, moving down her side to land on her hip. Her skirt all bunched up around her thighs but so tragically in the way of where Catra wanted to go. She moved her knee back, at Adora’s dismay, and gripped at the fabric to pull it up and banish it so she could give the woman what she needed. What she deserved.

And Catra was almost there. A few more minutes and they would cross that threshold, the one that came with messy things like what it “meant” and if there was a word to describe this inescapable magnetism. They would know each other and there would be the aftermath, insecurities are not destroyed with a few kind words no matter how sincere they are.

But they wouldn’t make it there, not yet. They had been distracted, wrapped up in the other, and unaware of the world around them. They had forgotten how they ended up in that room in the first place.

“Catra, I swear to god if y- OH MY GOD BOW TURN AROUND!” 

The shriek caught them all off guard. Glimmer herself was flustered and unsure where exactly to look. There was Bow who, in his panic, didn’t turn around and just shrieked as he lost balance and toppled over; limbs flailing like a lopsided tortoise. Adora choked out some sound of horror as she tried to bury her amorousness and be… normal? Not like some hormone riddled teen keening at being deprived of their release.    
  


Catra somehow managed to keep her cool, swiftly moving off of Adora to her side and draping her skirt back down to her ankles. Then, in a move Catra hoped came across as chivalrous and not possessive, she sat Adora up and pulled her into her chest, letting her face hide in the fabric of her shirt while her other hand rubbed soothing circles into her lower back.

Whatever they had been doing had been new, special, and she would not let Adora feel embarrassed or ashamed. Adora had trusted her and she took that trust very seriously. 

“Glimmer,” her raspy velvet voice spoke, calm yet authoritative, “I’ll meet you in the ballroom in ten minutes. In the meantime, I’d appreciate it if you both left. Please.” The candelabra nodded and wordlessly hoisted the clock back up and shuffled them both of the room in seconds.

Once the door was closed and the sounds of the mood-ruiners had faded away, Catra relaxed a little as she turned her attention to Adora still huddled against her. She smiled in spite of the situation, admiring the sensation of her arms providing shelter to the captivating goddess before her.

“You okay?” A pause then a small nod, her face still hidden. She sighed and kissed the top of her golden head.

“Adora, I’m gonna need a little more than that.” A longer pause and then, reluctantly, she felt the girl pull back, and once again she was faced with those indescribably brilliant orbs. Her face was a little red, though much less than Catra would have guessed. Adora worried at her lip and Catra cursed that Bow would easily be able to tell if she blew past her own 10-minute request. There would be more time for kissing, there had to be.

“I’m okay.” Adora hadn’t said much since they started, at least not fully formed thoughts (whines of Catra’s name didn’t count). “I uh...,” she giggled making Catra’s heart flutter once more, “that was new. For a slacker you uh, you certainly take charge, huh?” Her words were a bit shaky but she had a bashful little smirk on her face. Despite their interruption, she was being playful. Thank goodness.

Catra rolled her eyes in dramatic exasperation before lightly punching the girl on the shoulder, which just made the blonde snort-laugh. What an absolute dork.

“Please princess, you liked it.” And while the words were meant to be playful, a joking jab to keep the mood light, they could both hear the question in them. Adora smiled a thoughtful warm grin before reaching out to caress Catra’s cheek in her hand. The hybrid leaned into the touch on instinct, a little purr began to vibrate in her chest. She felt so content to just be touched by her.

“I really liked it.” They sat like that for another couple of minutes, comfortable  in  silence save for the steady sound of Catra’s purrs. 

But there was a ball tonight, one that Catra had specifically requested be as extravagant as possible so as to wow the guest of honor. She wanted to make it magical for Adora, like something out of the storybooks she greedily consumed on a daily basis. It needed to be everything she wanted and more. And to do that, Catra needed to help. It wasn’t fair to leave this last-minute request to rest solely on Glimmer’s shoulders. Besides, she had thumbs which was a rare commodity around here. So she turned her head to kiss the center of the calloused hand so tenderly holding her cheek, before standing and dusting herself off. 

“Well princess, as much as I want to stay holed up here with you we’ve got a party to prep for. Plus, I have a feeling Scorpia is just itching to get you all dolled up. Knowing her it’ll take you hours to get it all on. Girl loves her layers.” She offered her hand and pulled Adora up and the two stood close, smiling at the ease of existing in the other’s orbit.

“After the party, do you think we could maybe find somewhere Glimmer is less likely to find us?” Catra couldn’t help but cackle at Adora’s 180 from anxiety-riddled angel to some insatiable deity who buzzed at the idea of more. She really was something.

“There isn’t any place safe from her I’m afraid, but I can at least make it clear we’d like to not be found for a while.” Adora beamed at her and made a happy little humming noise as she leaned forward to peck the hybrid’s cheek.

“Perfect.”

And gods, she really was.

_____

As Catra and Glimmer left the ballroom a few hours later, it was almost impossible to not overhear their bickering.

“I said I was sorry! I didn’t think you’d just come barging in like that. Ever heard of knocking?” The candelabra turned on her in an instant, a frantic sort of chaotic energy radiating from her flickering flames as her left eye twitched in a manner that was certainly unhealthy.

“First of all, I knocked. I knocked and shouted my way all over this castle. And forgive me for thinking the last place you’d hideaway to play “find my fingers” would be in your mother’s study. I mean, gross Catra!” Both managed to simultaneously blanch at Glimmer’s words for different reasons. 

“You have to stop calling it that Glim.” The candelabra looked at her slack-jawed in an irritated horror. 

“Oh, oh I’m sooooo sorry. How about “heavy petting palooza”? Would that be better?” Catra relented and held her hands up in surrender. 

“I get it, I get it. I’m sorry, really. We just,” she faltered and her hand moved to nervously rub at the back of her neck. “I don’t know, it just happened so fast and she was so…” Catra let herself trail off, she didn’t know exactly what she wanted to say but anything she could think of felt like a betrayal of trust. 

Glimmer seemed to catch on and did her best to self-calm her severely fried nerves. Catra hadn’t really been one for not kissing and telling, at least when it came to Glimmer. Whether it was for the thrill of flustering her constant companion or simply saying her inside thoughts out loud to pass the boredom, Catra wasn’t one to stay tight-lipped. But this was different, she was hesitant and defensive. 

Glimmer momentarily reflected on the way Catra had shielded Adora upon interruption, holding her close and ensuring her dignity was protected. Not that Glimmer or Bow would ever have said anything, but she couldn’t know that for sure. Catra had even maintained her temper, and instead of an all-out screaming match, she had remained calm and collected. She had been the pinnacle of princely.

“It’s okay, I just didn’t expect it is all. But,” Glimmer was careful to pick her words properly, “I’m happy to see you two are… happy. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this like you’re in-”

“Don’t.” Catra cut her off as gently but sternly as possible. “I know what you’re thinking Glim but I can’t let myself go there. I know I’m supposed to, for this curse but… it means she has to too and, I can’t do that to her. She deserves so much better than this. You all do.” Her shoulders slumped and she hung her head, the voice of her mother somewhere in the hidden depths of her mind crawling out of its dark hidey-hole.

_ Who could ever love you? Who would ever love a beast? _

“Hey, don’t sell yourself short okay. I’m just saying I haven’t seen you like this before and, no matter what happens, I’m proud of you.” Now it was Catra’s turn to blush, her tail winding around her waist as she felt herself shrink away from the sentiment.

“Th-thanks Glim. That, uh, means a lot.” Glimmer smiled up at her before she began moving away towards the staircase.

“Alright you idiot come on, we’ve got to get you cleaned up.” 

_____

After two baths (according to Glimmer, Catra was long overdue for a deep cleaning) and some brushing with real combs instead of the hybrid’s preferred method of leisurely tongue cleaning (to Glimmer’s continued horror), Catra was almost ready. She had tossed on one of her nicer white blouses tucked under a gold vest Glimmer selected, and found a pair of black pants with minimal scuff marks. Her hair was up in a nice, albeit messy, ponytail secured with a bold blue ribbon Glimmer had also insisted on. Hell, she’d even managed to work in one of those ridiculous fancy neck poofs. After all, tonight was about going all in. 

Now for her jacket, she was flipping through her closet for something special. She had quite a few from back in her prime but none seemed right. This had to be perfect for Adora, she wanted to be every part the prince and give her something special. Because… 

Because maybe what she was feeling was what she had been avoiding. Deep down she knew what she felt wasn’t lust or fascination. Adora wasn’t just some cure for boredom, and she certainly wasn’t Catra’s prisoner.

She was years of unspoken wishes. She was a beacon of light on a shore that Catra had long given up hope of finding. But now that  she could see it, hope so close and beckoning her home, she felt herself adjusting the ship's sails in an attempt to venture back out to sea. 

Saving everyone trapped in her lonesome fortress was one thing, but to do it she’d have to head right towards the light. She’d have to hope her ship would find a safe harbor despite a lifetime pointing to the contrary. And what would happen then? Would they just go on? Happily ever after? 

Adora was kind, beautiful, and so gentle with the fragile infrastructure of Catra’s feelings. The way she listened to Catra talk about her father, her mother and all the messiness in between with an endless supply of judgment-free patience was something Catra had never known another person could do. 

But to ask her to love her? 

That was too much. Adora didn’t deserve that.

Catra didn’t know when she had wandered back to her bed, only felt the sensation of her back hitting the mattress with a muted thud as she stared at the ceiling once again asking it for answers. And like all the times before, it offered her none. She cracked a humorless smile. At least something in her life was consistent.

She was on the verge of free-falling into her own pit of self-loathing, practically beckoning her mother’s cold voice to fill her ears once more with condemnations both earned and not. 

However, for the second time that day, Glimmer and Bow once again barged in with no idea what they were interrupting. 

“Oh my gosh look at you! So handsome, Adora’s gonna lose it when she sees you!” The ever-positive timepiece practically had hearts in his eyes as he bit back a squeal of excitement.

“Is that what you’re wearing?” Glimmer asked with an oddly smug look on her face. Catra sighed and stood, walking back to her wardrobe to once again stare at it in dissatisfaction.   
  


“Shove it Sparkles. Why don’t you do your job and help me pick a jacket instead of giving me a hard time.” The candelabra didn’t move though and only managed to look even more self-satisfied. It was starting to grate Catra’s nerves. “What?”

Bow had his handles covering his mouth as he teetered side to side, practically bursting in excitement, a stark contrast to Glimmer’s cool confidence. 

“Nothing really. I was just talking to Scorpia and she suggested something for you to wear tonight if you’re interested.” Glimmer’s tone shifted, her casual demeanor slipping into something else like warm excitement. Before Catra could push further, Perfuma was rolling in; the mid-shelf of her cart  held a brown package that was clearly labeled “For Catra”. She gave them all a questioning look, only getting an encouraging nod from Perfuma as she wrapped her clawed hands around the parcel.

She brought it to her bed and, with nervous fingers, ripped away the paper to reveal…

“Dad…”

In her hands, she held her father’s favorite jacket for parties, a beautiful royal blue with white trim and brilliant gold buttons. It was lined with dark blue satin and had intricate pockets sewn into the lining where he would hide candies and snacks. The coat, his coat, had been missing for years. She had assumed her mother had taken it with her, or worse,  it  had been lost in the same fashion that took him from her. 

But here it was, this long-abandoned memory of her father, clutched in her hands once more. He would always wear it with his gold vest and proudly proclaim he was just trying to coordinate with his daughter’s eyes. A shock ran through her as she looked down at the vest Glimmer had picked, then recalled the blue ribbon in her hair.

She knew.

She turned to see her lady-in-waiting smiling back at her, her lips quivering and she knew that were it possible, her face would be a mess of tears. But that was okay, Catra could cry enough for the both of them. 

“Glimmer… how did…” her voice was so shaky, overwhelmed with disbelief and bittersweet heartbreak.

“I found it years ago when I was cleaning out one of your mother’s rooms, tucked away in a trunk. I asked Scorpia to help, we wanted to surprise you. That night, when she left to get it and we all…” Her voice cracked, struggling to continue. She didn’t need to finish though, Catra knew.

That night, the night her temper cursed them all, Scorpia had run off to get Catra’s present. Some big surprise. In all the mayhem, Catra had never thought about it again. The memory was so rooted in shame and sorrow she hadn’t bothered to wonder what the seamstress had been so eager to give her. She had forgotten the smiles on everyone's faces, once again assuming they were just happy to have a reason for merriment in her miserable castle. 

But never could she  have imagined that this was what they were all waiting on. That they had all known their spoiled sour prince would be gifted something so meaningful and beloved. What had she done to deserve them? 

“Scorpia tailored it, just for you. We thought, maybe, you would want to wear it tonight.” Perfuma spoke in her soothing sing-song.

Catra looked back down at the cloth in her hands and noticed the little drops of tears already staining the fabric. She moved, gingerly, as she slid her arms into the sleeves and pulled the collar up to adjust the shoulders. It fit perfectly, just like it had fit him, and for a moment it felt like the king was with her once more, his arms holding the prince close in a proud embrace. 

She looked back up to the three watching her, each wearing a sad sentimental smile as she turned from side to side admiring the garment. She tried to muster the rights words, some way to explain the profound impact and unparalleled kindness this gesture held.

A gentle “Thank you,” was what she managed. And while that didn’t feel like enough they all smiled back at her like it was. Like somehow those words were sufficient repayment for the beautiful thing they had done.

“You’re welcome.” Glimmer’s face broke into a grin, attempting to shake away the lingering emotions of the moment. “Now come on, you have a party to host.” 

Catra gave herself one last look in the mirror and swore she saw her father there smiling back at her. And that was all she needed to gather herself, puff her chest out, and strut out of her bedroom to the ballroom.

A prince should never keep a princess waiting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *-UPDATE-*
> 
> Apologies, a commenter called out this fell under the E rating (wasn't sure what constituted what so I had left at M) so I updated the rating to reflect that. The next chapter will be full on smuff so, it was coming either way. I apologize if I upset anyone with that oversight!
> 
> ________________________
> 
> Heeeeeey friends. So how we feeling? I'll be honest, this one was a pain to get out. Getting into Adora's headspace is way harder for me than Catra's so this took a sec.
> 
> Also I've never written anything spicy before and man... keeping track of limbs is a doozy. I cannot begin to accurately explain the optics of me trying to mime out what limbs were where and making sure what I was describing was physically possible. 
> 
> Big big thanks to [Pandoras_hope](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pandoras_hope/pseuds/Pandoras_hope) for once again beta-ing and doing the absolute most, even in the midst of working on their own stuff (which I get to preview and I'm so excited y'all) edited my brain rot and gave me some ace in the hole advice/encouragement for this chapter.
> 
> Also, shout out to [dragon_loves_books](https://www.instagram.com/dragon_loves_books/) for continuing to make art of this fic which I cannot begin to express how flattered and cool that is. They made a dope crazy cool cover art piece and I just cannot but check out their IG!
> 
> Anywho, thanks for reading! I love all your comments and how excited you guys get, it's honestly the best food. 
> 
> See you next time (where there will be the ball I promise for real cross my heart)!


	9. Barely Even Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A handful of crackers and a night of dancing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay! This chapter was originally supposed to be a lot more but I realized it was maybe too much so enjoy the big dance and know the next chapter will not take nearly as long because it's already a third of the way done. 
> 
> But enough about me, time for a ball!

“So how did kitten like her gift?” DT wondered.

“She loved it! It was perfect and she looked so handsome! Scorpia worked wonders, not a stitch out of place and just the right amount of touching up without replacing.” The candelabra had run to the kitchen for a final back-of-house check with the staff manager before returning to her duty of soothing Catra’s fluctuating nerves. Honestly, the two had been a second away from doing THAT in a dusty old study and she was still worried about Adora liking her? It was… such a revelation.

Glimmer looked back to the feather duster only to notice an uncharacteristic look of anxiety across their features. 

“There’s a rumor going around it’s just two left now…” Cold darkness gripped her heart. Of course, none of them could ever truly enjoy anything for long. She sighed and gave them a somber nod, averting her eyes to the floor.

“It’s getting harder to control my flames. I tried to extinguish them and... “ she held up her unlit arms, “I had to have Bow clamp them out. I… I haven’t been able to re-light them since.” DT gave her a knowing look and a forced little smile.

“Well, at least my feathers have never felt safer.” The two shared a half-hearted chuckle, a poor attempt to bolster their now devastated morale. A moment passed and then-

“Do you think she’s the one?” 

“That’s up to them at this point I’m afraid.”

_____

  
  
“Oh geez Adora, I mean, I knew you’d look good in anything but I did not see this coming. No ma’am. Just, gosh, you just look like a dream. A real belle of the ball. Wow.”

Adora stood in front of the grand full-length mirror in her room, hips slowly swishing from side to side taking in the sight of the stranger before her. The girl in the mirror was familiar; broad shoulders, strong arms, rough hands, and blonde hair on the top of her head. But she was so different, so soft and glowy. Her locks were half put up into an artful knot while golden waves shrouded her shoulders like fine silk. Her eyes, no longer a dull grey but an undeniable silver, shine like the moon across a lake at midnight. 

She looked… ethereal. 

And the gown! It was a type of luxury she never would have imagined herself in, so convinced that her type of femininity was unsuited for something so grand and elegant. It was gold but not the harsh yellows she’d seen before; this was shining, warm, and inviting. She felt like it was the gold meant to accompany gods that had descended from the heavens, whose light was barely perceptible to the human eye. The top was like a corset (but instead of squeezing her innards out it wrapped around her like a supportive second skin) and had two loose loops of fabric attached meant for her arms so as to ensure nothing distracted from the full display of her collarbones and shoulders. She was even surprised to find that she wasn’t self-conscious about the way it cupped her breasts to form the slightest bit of cleavage (she did blush at the thought of Catra seeing them though, but that was oddly exhilarating).

The skirt was practically its own event and then some, billowing out like a cloud draped by the angels themselves. Scorpia had truly outdone herself, and probably the laws of nature, in this creation of yards of billowy magic that flowed and swayed like a feather in flight in a summer breeze. Catra was right, Scorpia loved her layers, but somehow it wasn’t cumbersome and suffocating. They all came together so beautifully like gradient colors of the sky at sunset, just naturally perfect and on display for anyone hoping to have their breath taken away.

It was too much when she initially saw herself. A village freak whose only friends were her grandmother and her horse was never meant to look like this. To be like this. This sort of thing was meant for the maidens in fairytales, fair and delicate. But before she could look away in shame she heard those words again, as though her brain had stored them in preparation for this very moment:

_“You are without a doubt the most beautiful person I have ever laid eyes on”._

And maybe, maybe she could see it too. Not like Catra could, but there was something there that hadn’t been before. Like her mind had gotten new spectacles and suddenly things looked different. Her shoulders were broad, bigger than the princesses in her stories, but they were strong and offered support. Her hands were rough but that was from years of playing, learning, helping, and exploring the world around her. And you know? Her eyes weren’t dull, they were grey like soft stones at the bottom of a stream or wild like storm clouds in the summer that brought warm rain you could dance in.

Yes, Catra thought she was beautiful, and that made every inch of her sing in delight at the notion of being appreciated and respected and wanted all at once. But more importantly, with head held high staring right into her reflection's gaze, she felt confident in thinking she was a good looking lady. 

“Well, it’s an honor to get to wear something so expertly crafted. You’re a magician Scorpia, this is magnificent!” She beamed at the gushing wardrobe who, in return, seemed to crumble into an ooey-gooey feel-good pile at the praise.

“Gosh, what a sweetie pie you are. Catra is just so lucky to have you here, you two are just gonna be the best thing on the dancefloor tonight! And in her jacket, oh wow, I mean what I wouldn’t give to see you both twirling around under lights! And you just know Mermista is gonna make the room as sparkly as possible, you’re gonna look like a dream Adora!”

Adora’s heart gave a familiar flutter, her chest tightening like it was trying to keep her from bursting at the seams with glee, as she thought about Catra seeing her. Her brain easily supplied her with an image of the woman staring at her, wide-eyed and in awe before smiling and saying “Hey Adora” in that playful soft way. The image was so visceral she was blushing at the figment of her imagination and the way the Catra in her brain would call her “princess” as she took her hand.

All of that and more was so close, her mind recalling Catra’s gentle smile as she had promised Adora uninterrupted time just for them later. After dancing and whatever grandeur awaited them in the ballroom, they would be alone and… 

Adora felt her chest flush and the heat in her cheeks ignite as she remembered their moment that morning. Catra holding her close before moving her to the floor so she could trap Adora in her mismatched gaze, looking at the blonde as though she were some otherworldly treasure. Rare and long-sought, her hands had been desperate to explore but her touches were reverent, mapping out the moment and committing her trembling figure to memory. No one had ever looked at Adora like that, and she was incapable of imagining anyone else doing so. 

“Adora?” She jerked from thought and spun on the spot to face Perfuma, her skirt swishing like a wave, the fabric practically its own entity as it swayed around her. She wasn’t sure when the teapot arrived but she was next to Scorpia glowing at the sight of Adora in Scorpia’s handiwork. She momentarily tore her eyes from the gown to beam at the wardrobe, positively overflowing with pride as her eyes met Scorpia’s with a look Adora was starting to understand as of late. That look of adoration for someone who can’t begin to imagine how in awe you are of them, how inexplicably smitten they make you. 

“Scorpia, you made magic. You’ve truly made something fantastic, I didn’t know fabric could do what you’ve done. You’re amazing.” The last piece was said in a tone of shy, whispered splendor and its flattery was not lost on the wardrobe who spluttered at the praise.

“Oh Perfuma, wow, that’s uh, haha, so nice. I mean. Adora is just a great model, she does the work for me! But thanks, maybe someday I could make something for you. I bet you’d look… gosh well you’d look great in anything!” Adora smiled at the two of them, her heart breaking a little at the “what if” that hung overhead but she was loath to let it sour the sight before her.

“Nonsense, you have a gift. And we’re all so lucky to get to see it for ourselves!” As though that were the final say in the matter, Perfuma turned her focus back to Adora, shocked to once again be the center of attention. “Adora, I believe your presence is requested for tonight’s event. Would you be so kind as to let me escort you to the ballroom?” Adora moved forward and made her way into the hall, just barely catching Perfuma whisper “I’ll be back in a little bit”, to the blushing wardrobe.

For a castle living under the dark cloud of a curse, it had so much love and kindness inhabiting its halls. 

She and Perfuma made their way to the ballroom in comfortable silence. A few times Perfuma would comment on something small and innocuous and Adora would barely manage to hear her despite the quiet halls. Her mind was so anxious to see Catra, to be seen by Catra; it had only been a few hours but she missed the prince already. As hard as she tried to be polite and engage with her escort, her frazzled mind struggled to maintain any sort of dialogue. In her great wisdom and a seemingly boundless supply of understanding, Perfuma simply smiled her small knowing smile as they made their way to the great ballroom. A few minutes more and their silence was broken by the familiar sounds of bickering, steeped in fake irritancy and high energy. 

“I am not cute!” 

“You know the angrier you get the cuter you look!”

“I am dignified Bow, stately! Not some adorable housepet!” Two giggles and a dramatic harumph followed the sentiment.

“You can be dignified and cute Catra. But I wish you had let me comb your hair.”

“It looks fine Glimmer! Besides, it was torture when you had hands. Now you’d just give me second-degree burns.” More giggles.

When they turned the corner they were greeted with the sight of an irked Catra’s back as she attempted to ward off the advances of Bow and Glimmer as they continued to fuss over the finer details of her outfit. From where she’s standing though, Adora can’t see a single thing to fix. From Catra’s high ponytail falling just to the side, granting Adora a hint of her neck, to her beautiful blue jacket perfectly hugging her form before artfully falling off the sides of her hips. Even without turning, Adora knows she’s destined for a night of breathless whispers, red cheeks, and flustered words. 

The first to see her approaching was Bow, who paused his gushing to barely restrain himself from squealing at the sight of Adora. Glimmer’s eyes quickly followed but she merely smiled at Adora like an old friend, something akin to pride in her eyes, and she can’t help but feel bolstered by it. 

Catra’s ears twitched before she turned, she heard Adora coming because of course she did, but Adora saw the hesitation. She saw the way Catra’s shoulders raised and dropped like she needed to steel herself before taking in the woman behind her. Adora normally would have spiraled at that minor movement, would have traveled down every river her mind could provide in a rotten rowboat to assume what awful thing that gesture could mean. But something changed, something that made her follow Catra’s lead and take a deep breath for herself like she knew breathing would be a challenge in a matter of moments. 

And wouldn’t you know it, the moment Catra turned and their eyes met, Adora wondered how anybody breathed at all. 

The two stared in stunned silence for moments that stretched into minutes, like a museum patron struck by a particular piece and incapable of doing anything else but lose themselves in the work before them. The onlookers merely grinned amongst themselves, delighted as anyone could be at the image of two awestruck idiots completely overpowered by the sight of the other. When they finally spoke, everyone was surprised to find it was Adora who was the first to shake themselves from the stupor.

“We kinda match…”   
If Catra were not so invested in everything planned for this evening she would have grabbed Adora by the hand and dragged her back to her room right then and there. This goddess, this angel on earth who glowed like she had snuck the sun into her back pocket, had the audacity to look at Catra like she was the most impressive thing in the room. Breathless and wide-eyed, taking in the prince like she was some remarkable entity in spite of the fact that Catra was staring straight into the eyes of the most beautiful woman to ever exist. But she couldn’t stare in silence forever and Adora would not be left alone to carry a conversation, no matter how Catra’s tongue seemed to swell in her mouth. 

A prince should never keep a princess waiting.

“Of course princess, it’s in poor taste to not coordinate with your partner. Plus,” and Catra grinned her fanged grin that made Adora’s knees turn to jelly, “I wouldn’t want anyone to think you’re without a suitor for the evening.” Adora giggled a heavenly sound that made Catra’s ears perk up lest she miss a single moment of that lilting joyful noise. The prince gave a low bow to her princess and peeked up to see Adora attempt what looked like her first curtsey, a little clunky but endearingly sweet. With the first formality done, Catra rose and turned to offer her arm to her blushing date for the evening.

“You ready?” 

Adora took Catra’s arm, then a big breath, making sure to stand straight and attempt to banish any silliness from her face; like an elegant lady suited for a fancy ball. Catra was simply engrossed by the spectacular dork at her side. When Adora was finally “ready” she turned her face slightly towards the prince and nodded with a forced, theatric sort of grace.

“After you, my liege.” 

Catra couldn’t contain her snort but did her best to compose herself and straighten up. If Adora wanted to play fancy, then she could do that. This whole night was about Adora and giving her everything Catra could. So with the most stunning creature to ever exist on her arm, Catra gave a curt nod to Glimmer and Bow who, in perfect synchronization, pushed back the large double doors that opened into the shimmering ballroom before them. 

Three steps in and both women were absolutely shell-shocked at the scene before them. Adora couldn’t pick a spot to focus on for longer than a second, her eyes first caught Mermista sparkling brightly above them with her intricate crystals shimmering then jumped to a freshly polished SeaHawk whose keys were dancing as sweet music filled the room. Then there were two large side tables filled with all kinds of foods, savory and sweet, and about half of the items were things Adora hadn’t ever seen before. There was even a chocolate fountain! A fountain, whose exclusive purpose was to pour out chocolate! And then there was the small tower of champagne glasses, each chilled and filled with bubbling gold liquid. It was exquisite and sophisticated and were Adora not on the sturdy arm of Catra she may have just lost her footing at the impact of it all. 

She turned to the prince, looking for a companion in her wonderstruck state, and found her mismatched eyes already glazed over with admiration. But not for the scene that had so captured Adora’s mind.

While Adora’s eye had been incapable of deciding where to look first, Catra hadn’t been able to look at anything other than Adora. The hybrid watched, warmth like an embrace for the soul spreading through her every fiber, as the blonde’s eyes sparkled and found new ways to widen. Her face was so sincere, so earnest, as she delighted in surprise after surprise at the finery around them. Champagne was nice, Mermista’s light was heavenly, the food was indulgent, and Sea Hawk’s music pleasantly lilted in a gentle grandness. All of it was perfect, meant to make the highest of society fall speechless. But none of it compared to Adora. All of it was staggeringly insignificant when in the presence of the way her mouth contorted from joy to astonishment, to curiosity, to disbelief, and back to unbridled delight.

Catra couldn’t have imagined a more perfect reaction. Were she able, she would spend the rest of her life chasing after this, hunting for anything to make Adora’s face flit through her emotions like a hummingbird’s wings in joyful fervor. Anything to make her happy, anything to surprise and delight her as she deserved. When Adora turned to look at her Catra could tell the woman was in such a state of charming bewilderment her features practically begged for confirmation it was real. Catra chuckled and gave her date a soft kiss on the cheek and whispered, “All for you princess.”

With a sharp inhale of breath and the beginning of tears in her eyes, Adora looked to the woman whose arm she clung to and momentarily wondered if she could float were it not for the weight of her gown. This should all be too much, normally Adora’s self-doubt would have crept in and ruined everything but for some reason, it can’t reach her here. All of this was safe and wonderful and those horrible shadows had been so profoundly banished she could hardly remember what they felt like. So instead she leaned over and placed a chaste kiss to her prince’s lips, her smile seeming to be a permanent fixture this evening. 

Before they can spend another 30 minutes simply gazing at each other like infatuated fools, they are interrupted by a loud angry grumble from Adora’s stomach. They looked at each other, faces shocked at first before both were brought into a fit of giggles. 

“Okay, not that this isn’t like… cute or whatever but like could you maybe do something?”, came an exasperated monotone from directly above their heads. Catra rolled her eyes in a huff while Adora, in a shock to no one, turned red and was thoroughly embarrassed.

“Oh, my love, who can blame them for being so entranced by your beautiful light! Your dazzling glow could convince the coldest hearts to fall in love!” Crooned the piano from his small stage, keys still tinkling out a soft melody under his gushing proclamations. Adora felt Catra bristle at the comment and saw the way the hybrid’s eyes narrowed at the would-be serenader, clearly upset at his insinuation… 

“Yeah, whatever. But like, I kind of put my everything into this party so maybe you both could like, participate? Cause it's actually my best work considering I had one day and like I’m stuck to the ceiling so… yeah. You can praise me or whatever.” 

“Thank you! It’s absolutely beautiful!” Adora gushed.

Catra smirks and watches as the blonde piles more praise onto the chandelier, Mermista sparkling brighter and brighter despite her forcibly cool demeanor. Mermista did do a wonderful job, she always did, and hopefully, her little outburst could distract Adora from Sea Hawk’s thoughtless commentary. Tonight wasn’t about breaking a curse or tricking Adora into saving them. It was about making the blonde smile for as long as she could. 

And what would really make the blonde smile, based on the roaring sound of Adora’s stomach once again demanding attention, would be something to eat. So Catra took the lead, instructing Sea Hawk to play something lively while taking her date’s hand and guiding her towards the mountains of food laid out for them. And really… it’s an unreasonable amount of food for two normal people and probably wasteful.

But Adora isn’t normal is she? Catra observes with pure delight as Adora makes her way down the table, shoving one of everything in her mouth, decorum be damned. She’s about halfway through the table when she pauses to look down at the food clutched in her palms then up to Catra’s grinning face. The prince prepared to calm her nerves, expecting Adora to fully flush with shame at having completely forgone utensils of any kind (god it’s so hot how much her mother would hate this messy angel of a woman), but instead, she’s surprised once more by the blonde.

“Hey uhh… what is this stuff?” Adora asked.

Catra tilted her head in surprise, almost a little speechless at the question. “That would be mousse de saumon.” 

Adora squinted at her then back at the pale pink cream covered crackers before shoving all three in her mouth and slowly nodding. 

“It tastes like fish frosting?” She says through her mouthful before swallowing. 

And that shouldn’t be the moment. 

She had known deep down it was a losing battle but still... 

It should be when Adora is kissing her, or when she’s wiping away one of Catra’s stray tears, or literally any other moment that is romantic and tender.

Yet it’s this right here, Adora already back to shoving food in her face while dressed like a deity fallen to earth, that the feeling she’s refused to acknowledge begins to roar through her brain. The horrible, beautiful, agonizing truth she had so hoped she could bury under years and years of sullen defeated angst.

But this… Adora…

It’s love.

Catra is in love, and this is what it feels like.

_Fuck._

Catra felt things shift inside her, memories changing and a mild panic rising at the implications of her heart’s betrayal. Every moment with Adora, no matter how small, had been a monumental step to this moment. Every little touch, laugh, and greeting was now revealed to be battering rams made to destroy her defenses. And for a moment she felt herself slipping from this evening into some familiar dread, the cold tendrils of doubt and fear slithering towards her exposed heart. 

But a voice brings her back to the ballroom. A voice belonging to a beautiful blonde idiot who was looking at Catra with eager anticipation. 

“Sorry, uhh, what?” 

Adora chuckled and took Catra’s hand in hers, tugging her to the dancefloor. “I asked you to dance with me,” she paused, relinquishing her grip to fidget with her hands, “please?”

Tonight was not about Catra failing to control her emotions, tonight was about Adora.

“Princess, I thought you’d never ask.” 

Catra bowed and Adora attempted a smoother curtsey before they were once again gliding together, just like in the library. Two souls who weren’t just drawn to each other but built to flow together as though they were two halves finally reunited. Sea Hawk delighted in playing tune after tune, upbeat and jaunty as Catra spun and box-stepped Adora around the ballroom. They made up their own moves, occasionally stumbling or misstepping, but neither noticed and instead shared quiet giggles and soft forehead bumps. 

It went like that for hours, the two taking breaks to snack or sip on champagne. The latter Adora had never had, eyes lighting up as she looked at Catra with a “Can you believe this exists?”, sort of expression. Meanwhile, Catra wondered if Adora could hear the way her heart hammered in her chest like it was trying to break free of its ribbed confinement.

At one point some of the other residents could be seen dancing along the sidelines. Adora nudged Catra and drew the hybrid’s attention to Bow and Glimmer taking turns twirling each other, both absolutely lost in their own world. Catra’s heart clenched as she imagined her friends dancing how they used to be, Glimmer likely leading despite the noticeable height difference. The way Bow’s hands would abandon proper form to simply wrap his arms around his love and press them close. Almost every ball ended with the two swaying in a tender embrace, hidden away in some corner where they could exist just as themselves. Catra used to roll her eyes and tease them for the indulgent behavior, incapable of understanding the need for such public displays of affection. 

She clearly understood now.

Before the curse, this castle had been so filled with love. And in spite of the curse, it still was.

Catra pulled Adora closer, the hand on her hip moving to wrap around her waist. She met no resistance. Adora rested her head on Catra’s shoulder and nuzzled into her exposed neck.

“What are you thinking about?” 

“About how things used to be here. How happy everyone was, and how lonely it was to not understand why I couldn’t be. How glad I am you’re here and I wish you could have seen this, and us, when we weren’t…” Catra sighed and buried her face into Adora’s sunny locks, her scent enveloping her senses with a feeling of soothing warmth. Even her tail managed to cease its disgruntled thumping. Adora was truly magic. 

“Catra,” Adora pulled back so she could look into the prince’s eyes, grey eyes determined and pleading, “why can’t you tell me what happened? I could help!” Her voice cracked at that last bit, so desperate to free them all from whatever cloud hung over their heads. Catra’s heart broke from the weight of her kindness, but it wouldn’t relent. Because she loved this beautiful creature in her arms like she never thought she could. And if there was one thing she knew for certain, it’s that when you love someone… you do what's best for them. So instead of an answer, she released Adora’s other hand to hold the blonde’s cheek in her palm, letting her thumb caress the soft skin of the woman who had stolen her heart and soul, not missing the contrast of her sharp claw shining against her flushed flesh.

“There’s nothing you can do Adora, it’s…”, and a voice in her head tried to fight her, tell her there was a way and that Adora COULD help them. But Catra had never believed that, and even if she did, what kind of a life would she be dooming Adora to? What if nothing changed and Adora was trapped like everyone else she loved was? She had failed so many in her short life, she didn’t need to add to that number.

“Adora please, just… let me do this for you? Just tonight, I want to give you this night.” 

Something like heartbreak flashed behind Adora’s eyes, only for a second, but Catra’s sharp feline eyes weren’t capable of missing it. 

“Okay, Catra. Tonight. But tomorrow… tomorrow you’re going to tell me what happened.” It wasn’t a request and Catra couldn’t help herself from smiling at the stubborn idiot in her arms.

“Tomorrow.”

_Maybe… maybe tomorrow._

As though on cue, the lights dimmed and the music changed. Catra caught a glimpse of Glimmer smiling at her, not smug but proud, from her spot next to Sea Hawk. She gave her a little encouraging motion and, already fragile from her own emotions, she could only manage to stick her tongue out at her lady in waiting before turning her focus back to the woman of the hour.

“I think this is the big one, ready princess?” Adora’s answer came in the form of rosy cheeks, sparkling silver eyes, and a breathless nod.

They glided and spun around the dancefloor to the enchanting song floating through the air. It was like it had been written for them, slow yet building to something, sad and maybe cautious, but excited and hopeful. Adora was a vision, even without her golden gown, she moved like she was made for this moment. No longer the shy and awkward girl who had over-thought every step, instead she spun under Catra’s hand as though she had done it her whole life. Had this room been filled with guests, Catra knew without a doubt every single one of them would have been stilled to silence by the sight of Adora.

As the song grew louder, the crescendo close at hand, Catra pulled her close so she could whisper in her ear, “You’re perfect, Adora” before dipping the blonde in a grand finish. Adora’s arms wrapped around her neck as Catra’s hands held her back, reveling in the trust of the woman below her. How far they had come.

The song came to a close and Catra lifted Adora back to her, pulling her into a tight embrace as their lips met under Mermista’s twinkling glow. It was how balls were supposed to end, with the prince and the princess together at last. The kiss was soft and tender but it held so much. 

It was a thank you from Adora, for this beautiful night, for welcoming her into her world, for trusting her and making Adora feel as though she had finally found her someone. She hoped her lips conveyed how lucky she felt she was to be here with Catra, in this unimaginable moment.

And for Catra it was I love you and I’m so sorry.

When they parted they stared into each other’s eyes for a moment, wondering if the other understood.

And they did, dear reader, a little. But words are important, and while they basked in the other’s glow they forgot that very important fact. Because Catra didn’t understand how happy Adora was to be with her, curse be damned. And Adora didn’t understand how much Catra intended to withhold the truth because she couldn’t believe something like this could last.

Adora’s hands released their hold around her neck and drifted down Catra’s arms to grip her biceps, the hybrid’s hearing already so keen she wondered if the sound of the blonde’s heart thudding in her chest could deafen her. It was so nervous, it's beating a booming sort of anxiousness that only grew louder as she leaned in, craning her head until her lips tickled at the sensitive hairs at the base of Catra’s ear.

“Would you still want to... umm… go back to your room?” The whisper sent a shiver down Catra’s spine but Adora didn’t move back to see the prince’s response, instead burying her face in her neck, red hot cheek pressed against soft tan fur. Catra could have happily melted right then and there.

The prince pulled back a bit, deftly dislodging the blushing mess from her hiding spot so she could look her in the eyes once more.

“Only if you want to Adora.” She raised a hand to brush a stray strand of hair behind Adora’s ear when the blonde’s hand caught her wrist before she could pull away. She watched as Adora kept the hand in place, turning to grace her palm with a press of her lips before letting her cheek rest in Catra’s hand. So trusting, unconcerned for the sharp claws against her delicate skin, ones that could slice through her without effort. It made her heart clench with something horribly and wonderfully fond.

Adora’s eyebrow quirked and somehow the idiot managed a playful smirk under her prominent flush. “Well, I’m the one who asked. You’re the one who didn’t answer.”

Catra could only chuckle in spite of all the feelings howling around inside her, ghosts of wants and desires so long-buried suddenly rising up and filling her with the ugliness of hope. Because she knew she shouldn’t, she knows this is selfish, but that part of her brain is drowned out by every other fiber in her being that wants anything Adora is willing to allow her.

So she pulled back, to Adora’s momentary panic, only to offer her princess her arm once more. 

“I can’t think of anything I want more, princess.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeeeey friends, how we feeling? Sorry this took longer and I missed last week. My brain really thought I could do dance, after the dance, and more all in one chapter? Things were getting so backed up and I felt guilty for not updating so (thanks to my superstar beta reader) I broke this into its own chapter. 
> 
> ~~Yes that doodle is mine, I doodled to help fight block and I thought it was sweet enough to add to the chapter. Hopefully, it didn't ruin it for anyone!~~
> 
> This also means I have yet again had to up the chapter count... honestly why? So yeah, one super chapter is now two but the work continues!
> 
> I sincerely promise next chapter is steamy. I can promise this because I'm already into it and currently charting where everyone's elbows are (I have a very cool and sexy approach to writing smuff that doesn't include a moving diagram and an excel chart no you shut up).
> 
> Anyways, as always big thanks to my super star one in a million lifesaver beta [Pandoras_hope](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pandoras_hope/pseuds/Pandoras_hope) who takes my ramblings and notes like "WHAT IS MUSIC WORDS?" and makes that make sense.
> 
> Also shout out to [dragon_loves_books](https://www.instagram.com/dragon_loves_books/) who continues to make art about this fic and send some wonderfully "go get 'em" encouragement when in the midst of block.
> 
> Your comments are always so sweet and I really enjoy seeing how much you all enjoy this AU! I started using my Twitter again @NinnMiss if you wanna chat but otherwise, see you all next week <3


	10. Then Somebody Bends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both a little scared, neither one prepared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! So this chapter is longer than usual but there's A LOT to cover.   
> That being said, this chapter does contain explicit smuff so if that is not your jam I have marked that section with **** to indicate when it starts and ends. 
> 
> (Also this is my first time writing explicit so... idk it's weird y'all)
> 
> There is still plenty of story outside of that but wanted to give a warning! Anyways, enjoy :)

Once more in the West Wing, while Adora watched Catra deftly remove her jacket then lovingly hang it in her wardrobe, she was struck with two very loud thoughts.

_ This is happening! _

_ I’m gonna barf. _

Okay maybe she wasn’t going to be sick, but what had been a soft flurry of butterfly wings dancing around in her stomach had turned into a whole raging swarm. Plus maybe she had eaten too much of the fish frosting. 

Flashes of her dream with Catra in the field mixed with the very real experience of Catra’s hands roaming her body played in her mind. The anticipation was dizzying and nerve-wracking. It was one thing for something to just happen, you know, but to plan for it? That meant thinking about it and thinking about all the many ways in which Adora had no idea what she was doing. She had liked what Catra did, and how… intentional she’d been. The way her hands, her mouth,  _ even her leg _ , had simply needed one moment of adjustment before turning her into a puddle. Like she had spent her whole life studying how to make Adora boneless in under a minute.

But Adora… well… she looked down at her hands and noticed a little tremor in them. Outside of her one-time exploration of heavy petting, she’d never touched anyone and even that was nothing like how touching Catra had been. Adora’s hands had been clumsy and clammy and over-eager in their curiosity, while Catra seemed incapable of doing anything that didn’t resemble an artist making thoughtful strokes as they made a masterpiece. She didn’t have any doubt that Catra could make her feel good but, honestly, what could she do?

Warm hands clasped her own as Adora was jolted back to Catra’s room, back to Catra who was staring at her with half-lidded eyes and a soft smile as she pulled her trembling fingers to her lips and kissed each knuckle.

“You’re doing it again aren’t you?” Crap, how could she always read her so well? Why couldn’t she keep it cool for ten seconds?

“I- uh what? Doing? I’m not dooooing anything.”  _ Nailed it. Great work. Remember when you were one of the smartest people in your village?  _

“What you’re doing is overthinking, I could hear you worrying even without these.” Her left ear twitched as if to prove her point but all Adora could do was resist the urge to reach out and scratch it. “So tell me what you’re thinking?”

Adora’s mouth was dry, so unreasonably dry. But Catra asked her a question, and she had never given her reason to withhold before. Catra was safe, Catra was… well patient wasn’t a go-to adjective for her but it seemed she made an exception for Adora’s fumbling feelings.

“What if I’m not good at it? I don’t really know what I’m doing.” Her fears hung in the air for a moment, dangling between them only for Catra to graciously take them from her and cradle them with immense care. The hybrid released her hands so she could wrap her arms around Adora’s waist and pull her close, letting her face nestle into the crook of her neck so her hot breath could soothe and delight her jitters away. A kiss to her collarbone, warm like an ember that could set her world on fire, and arms that kept her fears at bay like a magic spell. 

“It’s not about being good Adora, it’s about being with someone and trusting them. What makes it good is that it’s you.” Came whispered words of sweet assurance. “And we won’t do anything that makes you uncomfortable, you’ll tell me what you’re thinking and I’ll tell you back. And if we need to stop, we will and it will still be good because anything with you is perfect to me. Okay?”

When Adora didn’t speak for a minute Catra peeled back to see watery eyes and the wobbliest smile waiting for her. 

“Okay.” Their lips met again, a few stray tears fall from quiet gray pools but they’re joyful and shimmer with relief. “Do you… could you help me out of my dress?” Adora asks her question like a prayer and Catra is blessed to receive it, nodding before circling to Adora’s back, brushing her loose golden locks over her shoulder so as not to obscure her view. She lightly traced a single claw from the soft baby hairs of the blonde’s hairline down to the top of the corset, pausing then to place small kisses on Adora’s strong shoulders while her hands moved to begin unlacing the intricate lattice. 

She worked in silence, the only sounds being Adora’s stuttering breaths and fluttering heart. She didn’t want to rush like some over-eager teen incapable of controlling their raging hormones, giving Adora plenty of time to settle and speak up if needed. After a few minutes, the back was undone, and with ease, Catra could give the slightest tug and the whole garment would slide to the floor in one fell swoop. She could tell Adora wasn’t wearing the standard slip underneath, from where the corset had parted towards the top she saw a sliver of warm creamy skin she ached to know better. But this wasn’t a conquest or a roll in the sheets, this was Adora, so she wound her arms tightly around the woman’s waist, pinning the dress up lest gravity had other plans. 

“All done. What would you like next princess?” A kiss to the back of her neck sent a shudder through Adora. her hands felt clammy and twitchy like she should do something with them but was at a loss as to what that would be. She could feel the heavy fabric around her desperate to drop, and the pressure of Catra’s arms keeping it up. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Catra was being so gentle with her, it was chivalrous and kind but… that spark of need in Adora was growing bigger. It demanded action.

So Adora turned in Catra’s arms, facing the prince while her heart drummed in her chest and her legs fought the urge to turn to complete jelly. Hot cobalt met gold and sapphire orbs that were curious and hesitantly predatory, darting down to her cleavage pushed further up despite Catra’s attempt to protect her modesty. Something about this moment burned into Adora, this shared anticipation and the unspoken knowledge of the aftermath it would bring. This was the “right before” part of a story where things changed, and Adora was tired of reading about them without having one of her own.

Firm pale fingers wrapped around soft fuzzy brown wrists and pulled them away, letting them fall to the prince’s side as she watched the blonde in silent wonder. While normally Adora felt her movements were clumsy and loud, she felt like a flower in spring under Catra’s gaze. Her corset glided down her torso like a petal peeling away so the sun may see the full bloom it had hidden, open, and exposed under the all-encompassing warmth of a brilliant balmy sky. The cold air of the room kissed and curved around her body like it was drawn to her skin’s heat, but she barely felt it. Nothing could distract her. Nothing else mattered but the way Catra’s ears had perked up high and alert, her tail no longer swishing but frozen mid-air. The prince’s mouth parted for the ghosts of words that failed to be, and her eyes were wide and sparkling like they were witness to a holy secret. Adora was laid completely bare yet she felt more powerful, confident than she had ever felt in the thickest of coats. 

Catra had known Adora was strong. Feeling her back muscles when they danced had been cruel torture as she aimed to maintain grace and composure, but seeing her muscles highlighted in the moonlight? Her mouth was dry, body stilled by forces outside its control, and the brain no longer capable of cohesive thought outside the word “Touch!” screaming in her head like a banshee. Adora was ethereal, she was carved from the dreams of artists who were too limited by the restraints of their mortality to realize this vision before her. Beautiful, all of it, and how badly she needed to map every dip and curve of her body with her hands… her tongue.

Adora smiled, which should have been illegal considering how sinfully enchanting it was, and reached out to grip Catra’s shoulder as she stepped out of the golden pool of fabric at her feet. The way it shimmered beneath her naked form, she looked like a deity who had emerged from a pure gold portal to bewitch the slack-jawed prince. Finally free from her dress, Adora’s arms snaked around Catra’s neck and pulled their bodies flush against each other. Catra willed her body to do something, anything really, that remotely lived up to her reputation as someone who didn’t freeze up at the first sight of a boob. 

Her trance was finally, blessedly, broken by the sound of Adora giggling oh so prettily from where her face was pressed against her neck, breath tickling at her downy fur. 

“First time?” And WOW what a begrudgingly accurate call out. Here she is, standing in her bedroom, fully clothed, while the object of her affections has her bare chest pressed against her, and she’s still as a statue. 

As though guided by the ghost of her former self, her hands lift to Adora’s hips and find them to be a deadly sort of warmth that makes the rest of her so cold by comparison. Adora’s breath catches at the touch, the blonde having gone quiet like she was scared a sound would break whatever was happening. Her skin was covered in tiny pinpricks of gooseflesh and pressed up against her… Catra could choke at the sensation of what must be Adora’s nipples hard against her chest. 

Hands flexed before sharp claws moved to the base of Adora’s lower back before slowly ghosting up her spine before resting between her shoulder blades. A shiver ran through Adora’s body as she bit her bottom lip, burrowing her face further into Catra’s soft fuzzy neck. She inhaled Catra’s smell, that cinnamon and autumn mixture both soothed and ignited the fire spreading through her body. 

Catra’s hands moved once more, one came up to scratch at the base of her scalp while the other began to repeat it’s journey up and down her spine. Just like her dream, but this time Catra wasn’t behind her like some shameful figment of her darkest desires. She was real, she was there in front of her, and when those tormenting fingers moved from the base of her spine to grip at her ass Adora was helpless to stop the needy whine that burst from her lips.

Something animalistic rumbled in Catra’s chest at the sound, that long-dead part of her resurrected at the sensation of flesh under her palms and the earthy scent of Adora’s want.

She needed more, she needed to see and feel every inch of Adora.

Catra abandoned her task of raking her fingers through Adora’s hair so both hands could grip Adora’s backside and hoist her up, enjoying the brief blessing of her curse allowing her the strength to lift the muscle-bound goddess in her arms. Adora gasped, pulling back so those soft grey clouds could gaze into the electrical storm of Catra’s eyes. 

The prince sent out a silent prayer to whoever may be listening that, no matter what happened to her, when the last petal fell she would be allowed to keep this memory. Remember looking up at Adora, her alabaster skin glowing in the moonlight and her face only partially obscured by the full slopes of Adora’s breasts so close to her face that their heat begged her to come closer. Remember the way Adora blushed, a pink dusting that only Catra’s proximity could bring into existence and how her plush parted lips were painted red with lust’s rouge. 

Please let her keep this. Let her keep it all but please, if not, let this image stay.

Catra’s feet move on their own like she’s dancing again, simply trusting her feet to follow the moment and lead them both because she cannot bring herself to look away from Adora. Just as her knees softly bump against her bed, the angel in her arms leans down and captures her lips in a feverish kiss, teeth biting at her bottom lip in a clear demand for more. The prince’s lips part, open and wanting, as Adora’s tongue brushes against her own before exploring her mouth. It’s flustered and rushed and hungry, and while it is not the kiss of an experienced lover, it has the passion and heat of a wildfire. A throbbing from between her legs thrills through every nerve in her body; her wanting whine swallowed by Adora’s mouth.

They part, only so Adora can place her hands on either side of Catra’s face and smile a smile that is somehow both shy and drenched in unrelenting need. She opens her mouth, a single word breathed into their little world, and it sounds like a symphony.

“Please.”

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The prince turns and deftly releases Adora into a quick fall, her back meeting the mattress with a playfully soft thud. Breasts bouncing and begging Catra to see if she can fit them in her palm, thighs clenched together and rubbing, and Adora beaming up at her with those sparkling eyes and enchanting grin; she’s beautiful. The smell of Adora’s arousal has all but filled the room, every breath through her nose intoxicating and dizzying to her heightened senses. She moved onto the mattress, straddling the blonde’s hips and Adora’s hands immediately shot up to grip at her sides like she'd been awaiting their arrival. Catra felt like a predator and a disciple all at once as she let her claws drag along creamy skin, leaving pale pink tracks in their wake. Proof she was there, evidence that Adora laid herself bare for the sole purpose of letting Catra touch her where no one else had. 

Where someone else might once she was a distant memory.

The sensation of Catra’s obsidian claws dragging up her arms, tracing invisible patterns along her collarbone, dancing just above her breasts, was an addicting type of torture. Every inch of Adora was alive, crying out for their turn to be touched by the woman above her, begging for her attention. She could feel the wetness between her legs, warm and uncontrollable, growing worse with every touch as Catra’s hands seemed determined to do nothing but tease her. If she would just do… something! 

“Catra…” her voice unabashedly needy as Catra’s eyes met hers and lone fang poked over her lips; had a smirk ever been so irresistible? The hands moved again, drifting down her sides as they left little trails of fire behind them, then palms and fingers spread flat against her ribs and came up to rest under the swells of her breasts. Her smirk now a wicked grin as she leaned over, her face hovering just above Adora’s.

“Yes, Adora?” Her thighs clench at the sound of her name.

“Touch me.” Adora had never begged in her life but she had no interest in maintaining that streak if it meant release from this ache. She felt another throb from her core echo through her body, hands gripping harder at the prince’s thighs as though her fingers could communicate the severity of her situation.

“So demanding aren’t we?” The prince let out a low rumbly chuckle and Adora found herself on the cusp of protest, restraint nearly depleted when Catra’s hands shifted and thumbs brushed over her nipples. The sudden synchronization made Adora arch into the touch, head rolling back as a moan erupted from somewhere deep inside of her. Her knuckles were white from the tension of gripping Catra’s thighs, incapable of wondering if she was hurting the woman playing her body like some ancient untouched instrument. Delicate brushes turned to pinches and soft pulls as Catra rolled the tender nubs between her fingers and watched as Adora’s face contorted into some sort of surprised pleasure, her face muscles yet another thing she had long lost any control over. 

She didn’t care. She never needed to control another thing in her life. Adora’s eyes closed tight, sinking into the sensations and letting herself give in to Catra’s touches when she felt the woman above her shift.

“Breathe Adora,” was all Catra said before taking one of Adora’s nipples in her mouth and letting her tongue run wet velvety circles around the pink peak, her now free hand gripping at the blonde’s side. Adora’s eyes snapped open and hands released their hold on Catra’s thighs only to bury them in her hair, ponytail be damned. She looked down, panting and flushed, only to be met with shining mismatched orbs watching her in blatant delight. She opened her mouth, willing words to come, but all she was able to manage was a broken moan of the prince’s name as she felt teeth graze the nub so lavished in attention. Catra hadn’t let her mouth’s activities distract her from playing with Adora’s other breast, the touches dancing between rough and tender in an indecipherable pattern, and as a pinch coincided with a nip the heat between her thighs spiked. 

“Catra, Catra, Catra, please I… Catra… mmmmnnngg p-please,” a voice sounding like her own begged somewhere outside the thick fog of pleasure clouding her mind. She was drunk on want, so enraptured with the dueling feeling of absolute indulgence and the desperation of wanting. 

She heard a wet pop as Catra released her nipple from her mouth while her other hand ceased its play to lovingly palm and massage Adora’s tender chest. She whined at the loss but smiled as Catra’s face once again hovered above her own. How beautiful, how handsome, how absolutely, and unbelievably amazing this person was. Catra smiled down at her with that soft tender quirk of lips that contradicted the sharpness of her features, and Adora glowed at the notion that this was a side of Catra reserved just for her. She rubbed her thighs together once more, the look of total adoration on the prince’s face so dizzying and enticing.

“Hey Adora,” and if that didn’t send an electric shot straight to her cunt. 

Catra made a little squeak of surprise when Adora pulled her down so their lips crashed together into a messy frenzy of teeth and tongues. She needed more, she needed to be closer to Catra, she needed to touch her and kiss her and make her moan Adora’s name till she was hoarse. And she needed-

Catra had shifted and claws now ghosted over her abdomen and the sloped creases where hips met thighs. Melted silver met crown jewels, a momentary silence hung between them as they took in the sight of the other. Adora, panting and needy, inner thighs wet with slick as she lay trusting beneath the prince straddled on her hips. An angel willingly trapped. Catra, so hungry and powerful yet soft at the image of the woman beneath her. Every time Adora looked at her she was almost surprised to remember this was real, reminded once again this miracle of a moment was allowed to exist in the story of her miserable life. The unluckiest woman in the world was permitted to kiss Adora, hold her, and be trusted with this moment. It was overwhelming and the prince was so deeply scared she would ruin it.

Her claws ached in response. Her tail thumped in frustration of its existence. Her ears picked up the quietest whispers of self-doubt that lingered under Adora’s moans and whimpers.

“Adora,” her voice no longer teasing but fragile, “I want to do this for you. With you! I just-” she looked down to the monstrous talons that lingered so close to where Adora’s need rolled off in waves. The glistening skin looked so inviting in the moonlight. “What if I hurt you… I’m not a person Adora. I’m… I’m this.” 

Fuck she was not going to cry, not now. Not when she was supposed to be making Adora happy.

A gentle touch found her ear, scratching at the base before giving the sensitive patch of fur a delicate stoke. It moved to lift her chin, forcing her to once again face those exquisite eyes.

“You’re not a monster, you’re Catra D’riluth. You’re my best friend, you’re my prince, and…” Adora leaned up so their foreheads could touch, their unspoken way of comforting each other, “you could never hurt me.” This kiss was tender, meant to comfort and banish the darkness that had dared ruin this. It was foolish, honestly, for any sort of ill will to think it could stand a chance in the presence of the devotion and trust between them. 

With one final press to Adora’s lips, Catra gently pushed her back against the mattress and began drifting down her body leaving a trail of reverent kisses in her wake, claws ghosting down her arms and sides like a soothing trickle. As she left one final kiss below Adora’s navel, the prince moved to the side and gently nudged her legs open, watching in awe at how the slick stretched and clung to her legs as they peeled apart. Adora wanted her, truly and unabashedly and her heart clenched at the idea that this was what it was supposed to feel like. To simply be desired for the sake of who you are, not in spite of it. 

Adora watched as Catra lowered herself between her legs, hands moving under her thighs so her arms could wrap around them as clawed fingers applied the lightest of pressure to keep her spread. The prince was simply gazing at it, at her, and Adora squirmed under her silent stare as embarrassment attempted to work its way into her mind.

“You’re beautiful Adora.” Those wonderful eyes looked up at her and Adora could have sworn she saw the beginning of a glossy glaze of tears, but Catra was smiling… no Catra was beaming. “Tell me if you don’t like something, and definitely tell me if you really like something okay?” She placed a kiss on Adora’s inner thigh, a breath away from where she so craves attention, and gave a fervent nod. 

“You’re so wet,” Catra mused before running her tongue up Adora’s slit, hearing the blonde gasp as strong hands gripped at her hair on impulse. “My princess, my Adora,” she whispered, whether it was to herself or to Adora she didn’t know. Her tongue returned and began making light strokes along her folds, feeling Adora throb beneath her and whimper out broken pleas for more. She savored the way Adora clutched at her head, making feeble attempts to press her mouth closer. Her scent grew stronger and she relished in the notion that she would reek of Adora’s need long after this was over. 

“More, Catra. Please mmmphh… Catra I need…” breathless begging was an exquisite look on Adora. Catra let her tongue dive deeper, lavishing Adora’s throbbing cunt with attention before teasing at her entrance. The blonde seemed to remember her strength and Catra’s head was buried in Adora’s soaked core, if she were to suffocate then and there she’d go happily. She began to pump her tongue into Adora, the sound of her moans reminding Catra of her own want as she felt her pants growing distractingly damp. 

But this wasn’t about her. This was about the woman coming undone beneath her, fighting her urges to writhe and wriggle with Catra’s claws holding her legs apart. 

“C-Catraaa,” her name had never sounded so magnificent. She pulled her tongue back to place an open mouth kiss on Adora’s clit, engulfing it with wet warmth that made Adora howl something guttural. Stunning. Her tongue circled the sensitive bud as more and more of Adora filled her mouth, each throb bringing a new wave of slick to coat her face. 

“Catra I- Catra I think I’m…”

“Come for me princess,” and to drive the command home she began sucking her clit with unrelenting hunger, the pressure and pull making Adora’s back arch as she screamed a symphony composed of two words.

“Yes Catra! Catra, Catra, ahhhh Yes!” 

She released her grip on Adora’s thighs so those wonderfully muscled tree trunks could hold her in place as Adora came. Whispering praises, she let Adora ride out her orgasm on her tongue as hips slowed their jerking into soft shudders and skin covered in gooseflesh. Catra kissed her soaked center, softly lapping up the earthy sweet slick till Adora was clean and the prince was drunk on the taste of her princess. 

A soft tug of her hair and she moved upwards into the warm flushed arms of the woman she loved, pressed into her chest and held like she was precious and small. Catra burrowed her face under Adora’s chin and breathed in that sweaty smell of turmeric and vanilla, content to let the blonde overpower all her senses.

“That was… wow,” 

Catra smirked at the sound of a post-orgasm Adora, giggly and winded, the charming goof. 

“Well, I’m glad to hear it, princess. Give me a minute and I’ll try and see if I can get you to a new decibel.”

“Oh uh, but what about you?” Catra went stiff, frozen by the innocent inquiry. It wasn’t that she didn’t want Adora to touch her, the soaked state of her pants was proof enough of her want. But… 

_ Are you really going to make her touch you? _

Her mother’s voice didn’t belong here, not when she was pressed against a naked Adora. She was supposed to be safe here.

_ Is the price of losing her virtue bedding an animal, Catra? Some spoiled child who can only give when there’s something in it for her, how painfully predictable you are.  _

_ Disgusting. _

No… no no, she wasn’t like that. She would never make Adora do that. 

“What about me?” Deflection came so easy to her, it was a step away from lying and Catra had a lifetime of mastering that trick. 

Adora’s arms tightened around Catra’s torso as she shifted back to look down at her, those eyes still sparkling were so sincere. She should have been flushed and elated but instead, she was concerned and focused, and another pang of guilt hit Catra at the realization that it was her fault.

“I had thought… Do you not want me?” Oh no, this was worse than concern. Adora’s emotions were always so easy to read and this one screamed self-doubt and rejection.

“No! Of course, I do, Adora I lo-”  _ fuck no, reel it in _ , “I want you so bad but I don’t want you to have to touch me like this. I want this to be perfect for you and you shouldn’t have to-”

“That’s stupid.” Adora’s features had gone flat while Catra’s were shell-shocked. 

Adora sighed. The woman in her arms was such a puzzling combination of confident and uncertain that was so easily unbalanced. Or maybe… maybe she was always uncertain and just knew how to hide it. Catra’s eyes looked so scared like at any moment Adora would disappear and leave her. She brought up a hand to cup a fuzzy cheek and smiled as Catra nuzzled into the comfort.

How long had she been alone like this? Even before the curse, how long had it been since someone touched her like she was the most important person to exist? How long had she been treated with hollow embraces and kisses born of empty words?

“Let me do this for you, please?”

A deep breath then, “Okay.”

“Can you sit up for me?” Catra obliged and Adora moved behind her, her back resting against the headboard before reaching to pull the prince against her. With Catra’s back against her chest, Adora nuzzled her face into the crook of Catra’s neck so she could kiss at the soft fuzz while her hands explored. 

“You’re amazing Catra,” her hands, on separate missions as one rubbed at her thigh while the other caressed her chest, deftly switched between the two as she gently grabbed and massaged each tender mound. Catra released a shaky breath, letting her head loll back to rest on Adora’s shoulder.

“You’re funny, in a sharp way.” Adora abandoned Catra’s thigh so she could begin tugging at the hem of her shirt, untucking it so she could slide both hands up to grasp her breasts, thumbs making small circles against hardened peaks. Catra mewled at the sensation, unsure whether the flattery or the way Adora’s rough hands felt on her tits was making her melt.

“You make me feel so safe,” she murmured into her neck before biting down and sucking only to release and lavish the surely bruising skin with her tongue. Catra bit back a cry for fear it would sound more like a choked sob than something amorous and desirable. She would be marked by Adora and hoped it would last far longer than it should. Everyone within the walls knew she belonged to Adora, but now her reflection could remind her.

“You make me feel like I belong somewhere, wanted.”

“You are! Adora, you-” a moan ripped out of her throat as one of Adora’s hands twisted a nipple that lit her body on fire. Adora’s touch would turn her into a pile of smoldering ash with the way she made the raging heat burn her veins from the inside out.

It was cleansing, all the ugliness that lurked in her shadows was exposed by Adora’s gentle inferno, flames licking at their heels as insecurities and doubt scampered in a fruitless attempt at survival. But the blonde would leave nothing untouched, her demons screamed and cried but their sounds were drowned out by Adora’s unwavering praise. 

Fingers danced at the waistline of Catra’s pants before gliding down between her legs to find fabric completely soaked through. Adora hummed happily, Catra could feel her grinning against her, clearly proud of her discovery.

“Can I touch you?” Catra was long past the ability to respond, let alone withhold the pathetic whiny sounds desperately clawing their way out of her. She simply tried to buck her hips in an attempt to make Adora’s hands touch her again, anything for friction. 

“Ah-Adora, please,” soft lips pressed against her ear, breathing into the sensitive velvet that flicked from stimulation.

“You’re beautiful Catra, breathtaking.” Adora’s hands pulled at her pants as Catra lifted her hips so she could be free from their constraint. Wet and exposed she tried to clench her thighs together, somehow hide the shame of her neediness but Adora was there, patient and kind like she always was. Strong hands pried them apart while she whispered words of encouragement into her delicate ears.

_ “Thank you for letting me see you like this…” _

_ “You’re so wet Catra, just for me.” _

_ “...I can’t believe I’m so lucky” _

Hot tears were streaming down her face, and she tried to wipe the shame away but a hand caught her wrist and pulled it into a kiss before releasing. It came to grip her chin and pull her so she was once again under a cobalt spell. 

“You’re perfect Catra. I- I’m going to take care of you, okay?”

“Adora…” came her breathless reply, so exposed under her gaze but… safe. Treasured. Special. 

When rough fingers found her clit, Catra nearly blacked out. Her vision blurred and all she felt was a screaming desire for more. For fear of her actions, her claws embedded themselves into her mattress as a calloused finger made small circles against her sensitive nub. She arched into the touch, Adora’s fingers gliding up and down her slit as they explored her wet folds as they teased and tested to see what sounds she could draw from the prince. 

“Ador-rah ha, I need, mm,” the hand stopped and she almost cried from the lack of movement. 

‘What do you need… kitten?” Rage at the nickname screamed for revenge but it instantly lost the fight to pulsing need as she instead threw her head back and whined into the hot air around them. 

“I need more. Your fingers, please Adora.” A soft chuckle ghosted against her ear before lips placed a gentle kiss on its base.

“Anything for you,” a promise, something bigger than the moment at hand, is lost as Adora slipped a finger inside Catra’s cunt. 

Everything froze and then began anew as Adora began thrusting into the woman in her arms, whispering sweet nothings as the prince unraveled at her touch. While one hand pumped in and out of her heat, the other wrapped around her waist, holding her firmly in place lest her squirming force a change of pace. Despite her inexperience, Adora was comfortable with this angle and she hoped what she knew of her own pleasure could be applicable.

Catra keened at the touch, whimpering as she pressed back into the firm hold of Adora’s arms as they grounded her. 

“Mmmm Adora… more,” the lewd sounds coming from her as Adora drove her finger in and out only made her pulse with the need for more, walls clenching around the digit with a vice grip. Adora gasped a little at the hold, a break from her “in charge” demeanor.

“It’s so… tight.” She wiggled her finger as though to drive the point home which only managed to make Catra’s insides scream and shake at the sensation.

“Adora I swear to God if you don’t-” a second finger slid into her soaking wet cunt and Catra made to cry out in pleasure only to have it swallowed by Adora’s mouth. Her thrusts hurried, harder, while her thumb started to drive and rub on her clit. Her hips bucked, a searing heat growing uncontrollably, the wildfire past the point of containment. It was best to sit back and just let it consume.

So she did.

Catra screamed into Adora’s mouth as her body released with a flurry of thrashes and thrusts and messy shivers. All the while Adora held her close, arms firm but not confining as her other hand stroked and petted her through her orgasm, dreamily coaxing every last whimper from her prince.

****************************************

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Slowly Catra’s fog lifted. Adora shifted their bodies to lie back on the bed with the prince cradled into her chest, the sounds of their thundering hearts and steadying breaths making for a soothing symphony in the aftermath. Adora’s fingers carded through the messy remains of Catra’s ponytail, humming a tune reminiscent of the song Sea Hawk had played them. 

Dancing felt like a lifetime ago. 

“How you feeling?” 

“I feel like I should be asking you that. Where’d that come from princess?” She felt Adora’s chuckle rumbled in her chest, the vibration soothing against her cheek. 

“I uh… I don’t know honestly. I just wanted to take care of you.” Her arms tightened around Catra, pressing her so close she wondered if when she pulled away she’d leave an imprint in Adora’s skin. “Did I- you know. Was it okay?”

Strong arms released the prince from their hold when she felt the hybrid begin to push back, coming face to face with soft mismatched eyes and a lazy smile.

“Adora, that was perfect. You were perfect.” She leaned forward and planted a reassuring kiss on her forehead before placing a second on her cheek. “Thank you.”

The blonde was now smiling a toothy goofy grin, her cheeks a lovely shade of embarrassment. She was beautiful and breathtaking but when Catra looked at her, blushing beneath her and eyes sparkling, she saw so much more. 

Catra didn’t see just Adora the headstrong clutz who had stormed her castle and proceeded to change everything, she saw a future so painfully dangling beyond her grasp. She sees an older Adora, an Adora who wakes up by her side every morning and isn’t her princess but her queen. An Adora who is her partner in every sense and wakes her up each morning with that shining smile and wide eyes that bring Catra a peace she’s never known. She can imagine a whole life with this Adora; finding her in the library lost in a book, making her scream in pleasure to her heart’s content, holding their child in her arms while Catra stares at them both just floored at the idea she could be so lucky.

Adora is a summer day, hell, Adora is a whole season of cool breezes and sunbeams that warm your skin.

And maybe… maybe she could have that? Maybe after all this time, she’s allowed this? Adora is happy with her right? And maybe she could love Catra back? Catra loves her enough for the both of them… so maybe-

“I never figured you for a bedtime vanity routine.” Catra’s thoughts are interrupted, brought back to the present and Adora’s inquisitively adorable head tilted to the side.

“What makes you say that?” She follows Adora’s gaze to the shimmering silver mirror on her bedside table, forgotten since she used it to check on Adora.

_ Spy on Adora. _ Oh, that’s a weird feeling.

“Oh, that… that’s not what it looks like.” She lets loose a sigh and crawls off Adora to retrieve the mirror, settling back by her side seated up against the headboard. Adora scooches up next to her, pulling the sheets up as she nestles into Catra’s shoulder. 

“So this is a magic mirror. I know it sounds dumb but, after everything happened I found this, and before I could smash it, it just lit up.” She dares a look up at Adora and finds only patience and curious eyes giving her their full attention. “Uhh so, yeah, some voice or something asked me what I wanted to see and then it showed me. It does that, shows you what you want to see, not like a wish but like a window into the outside world. It seemed like a gift at first but after a while… it was just another cruel bonus.”

“May I?” Catra hands it off to Adora who studies the object with the utmost care, oohing and ahhing as she turns it over in her hands. “So… it can show you anything happening right now? Even people?” 

“Yeah, I only had it out because I used it to... spy on you?” Catra shuts her eyes and cringes, waiting for the disgust and sounds of betrayal but they never come. When she hears a giggle she relents and looks to simply see a very smug Adora smirking at her. The insufferable pain is going to be cocky about it, she’s not sure which is worse.

“Spying on me? And what exactly was I doing that you wanted to watch, you pervert.”

“Pervert!? Wha-no! Not like that! I just-” She can feel the heat in her cheeks and the break in her voice that just sends Adora into a fit of laughter, doubled over with tears in her eyes.

“We had just kissed and I wanted to see if… you… you know, liked it.” The last part is spoken in a sulky whisper but no laughter could keep Adora from hearing it and she restrains her laughter long enough to pull Catra into a tight hug.

“You weirdo, of course, I did.”

“Yeah well, at the time I just wanted to be sure. It’s whatever.” A guarded pout seems like a safe bet as she lets the receding rumbles of Adora’s laughter soothe her brief brush with shame. She waits for more teasing, but Adora’s focus has returned to the mirror. A question is forming in her brain, if she squints Catra can swear she sees the cogs in her brain spinning as they formulate an idea.

“Do you think if I asked the mirror it would show me what I wanted?” A lump she cannot name begins to form in Catra’s stomach, a creeping unknown weight that whispers doom from the darkness.

“I don’t see why not. Just ask it.”

Silence hangs and then…

“Show me, my gran. Please?” And for a moment Catra prays the mirror won’t work, that by some stroke of luck it will simply remain a boring old unimportant mirror. Because Catra is reminded, all too soon, that they do not live in the real world but an isolated old dusty crypt of a fantasy. And before Adora stumbled into Catra’s castle she had a life, one with her gran and their house and her dreams and the freedom to see people who weren’t cursed. 

This… all of this… was a reprieve. 

And as though it were a cruel confirmation of her gnawing doubts, the mirror glows and whirls while a blurry image comes into view. Adora goes stiff by her side, a hand to her mouth in a poor attempt to stifle an anguished cry, as she watches a gathering of torches cast sick shadows onto the front steps of their happy home. In their midst sits a dingy gray carriage with the word “ASYLUM” scrawled across its side while a mountain of a woman leans against it. Her eyes are sharp, observing the unruly crowd around her as she remains as much an observer as she can.

But the real horror lies at the threshold where Prime towers over a small old woman, unbothered by her attempts to bat him away with a broom. Each hit only seems to make his sick smile spread like a cancer. In the crowd the librarians attempt to intervene, a restless mob delights in the distraction as Angella is thrown to the ground and a swift punch is lodged into Micah’s gut. Razz is alone, defenseless, and when Prime’s head turns, it’s as though he can sense Adora’s presence and his predatory smirk fills the enchanted surface before the vision fades away.

Adora is left only with the sight of her pale face, raw red eyes, and cheeks shining with tears.

“Catra, Catra that can’t… was that real?”

And there it goes. The end of her little fantasy, her selfish daydream. The end of their escape from reality. She takes the blonde’s shaking hands in hers, presses a kiss to her knuckles before gazing into those beautiful broken eyes.

“Adora, you have to go.”

_____

“Catra wait please, talk to me,” but the prince drowns her out as she barks orders to her staff.

“Glimmer, make sure the horse is out front. DT, pack her bags and check with Scorpia that nothing is left in her room. Entrapta, you said you had an idea for repelling wolves? I don’t care what it is, do it. Nothing will stop her from getting home. Bow, check the kitchen for provisions.”

She is a flurry of activity, after sprinting out of the room on all fours she returned panting and red-faced, thrusting Adora’s blue dress at her before dashing out again without another word. Adora, for her part, is in a daze, like a ghost wandering chaotic halls where all are scared because of her but unable to hear her cries for calm.

She’s not calm though, she can’t stop shaking, and watching the tremors in her hands is dizzying. 

Razz is in trouble. Adora abandoned her, left her alone and Prime struck like the poisonous snake he is. Now her grandmother was facing a mob and Adora was off playing princess and drinking champagne. The guilt twisted her stomach into knots, especially as she watched Catra shout and point from the center of the main hallway.

She had abandoned her grandmother and ruined her night with Catra all at once. How had she let this happen? And Catra, Catra was so in control and prepping for Adora’s departure, she switched into the role without batting an eye. Like it was easy… she hadn’t said a word after telling Adora to leave and every time Adora begged her to stop and listen she ignored her. But she heard her, the twitch of her ears indicated just as much, but she kept her back turned.

Adora had to leave, but she didn’t want to. Minutes ago she had been tucked in bed with Catra, naked bodies curled together as fingers drifted across warm skin and fur. Catra had nestled into her shoulder and for once, Adora felt that she was the one offering something more. She wanted to protect the prince from the world, and with the woman, she adored held tightly against her chest she had been so certain she would save her. Adora would figure out how to break the curse.

But then…

“Adora, did you hear me?” Catra was in front of her, hands gripping her shoulders and expression stern and authoritative. She was a different person from the warm woman who had spun her around a dancehall. Adora searched those beautiful orbs in hopes of finding her but she was nowhere to be found. This woman in front of her wasn’t Catra, this was Prince D'riluth.

“Everything is ready, you haven’t got much time.” The prince took her hand and began pulling her towards the front door, never slowing her pace. “Swift Wind has been fitted with a new saddle and your bags are loaded up. Entrapta has assured me whatever she did to the saddle will repel wolves, and Bow packed a compass that should guide you home as fast as possible. You can’t stop for anything Adora, every second counts and the road isn’t short even with all the advantages. Do you understand?”

“I-yes. No stops.” 

Catra nods her head and throws a heavy red cloak around Adora’s shoulders, fastening it tight. Adora feels a sad wave of melancholy wash over her as she remembers the first time she wore this cloak. Snow wars and games seem so far away now.

The doors open and soon they’re outside. Swift Wind whinnies at the sight of her and stomps his feet in excitement. Her heart doesn’t know what to feel. 

“Thankfully it looks like your pony has high energy, you’ll need that to get to your gran in time.”   
  
“Catra, wait!” The prince goes still, her tail slows, and then wraps around her calf and Adora’s heart hurts at the telltale sign of anxiety. Catra is doing this for her, Catra is being brave for her. Catra…

“I’ll come back. Once I get this all sorted out with gran I’ll come back and we’ll break the curse. I promise Catra.” Her words are spoken in earnest, she grips Catra’s hands in hers and hopes they reach her. That somehow she hears all the unspoken pieces as well and knows how important they are. “We’ll be together.”

For a second, Catra’s eyes smile. A light goes on and that little hopeful sparkle has returned, the playful gleam Adora could spend her whole life chasing. But then it’s gone, replaced with something colder, something dark and guarded that Adora hasn’t seen since they first met.

“No Adora. You will leave and never return.” She drops Adora’s hands and steps back. Her voice is detached and commanding. It’s heartbreaking and cruel.

“What? No! Of course, I’m coming back! Catra, I’m going to help you. Why, why are you being like this?” Catra’s ears are flat against her skull and the tail wrapped around her leg has yet to release its hold but her eyes remain empty and hard.

“Adora, you can’t help us. You can’t break the curse-”   
  
“Sure I can! We can! I don’t know how but I know we can do it together Catra. Please, don’t shut me-”

“If you could save us, the rose’s petals would have stopped falling. They didn’t.”

“Wait… the rose? The one in your room? How does tha-”

“In fact, with you here, more fell. You don’t belong here, Adora. You had your fun, you got to play dress-up, and now it's time to go.”   
  


“Stop it! You don’t mean that! Why are you doing this?!” 

Tears formed at the corners of Catra’s eyes as her hands gripped into fists, fighting a struggle Adora desperately wanted to understand. She rushed forward, despite Catra’s attempts to distance herself, and held the prince tightly as her body shook with tears and anxiety and all the feelings she had felt in one evening.

“Adora, it’s too late,” came a shaky broken whisper, “please just go. I-I don’t want you to see what happens when this curse takes us.” Adora pulled back, eyes wide with helpless horror, and face a mess with tears. Catra reached up to cup her face, a tender thumb attempting to wipe away her grief.

“Too late?” 

“Too late. Go home Adora, your gran needs you.” The prince placed a kiss on Adora's forehead, her lips lingering for as long as her heart could take without it shattering into millions of pieces. Adora’s hands fumbled at her pants before gripping her hips. “You’re not my prisoner anymore.” With that, the prince withdrew her hands and walked back till she was devastatingly out of Adora’s reach. 

Adora’s hand twitches like it wants to chase after the prince, grab her sleeve and force this torture to go on even longer, but it stills and falls to her side. She hangs her head and turns to Swift Wind, mounting him and taking the reins in her hands as she steers him towards the gate.

Catra wants to scream, wants to smash that stupid mirror for ruining their perfect night, wants to yank Adora off her horse and drag her back inside, wants to lock the doors and bar the windows so she can never leave, and stay with her forever.

She wants to tell her she loves her… every day for the rest of their lives.

Instead, she stands still, stoic and guarded like her mother taught her, and watches the woman she loves trot away from her. Adora turns to look back, and her lips move as she whispers words lost to the bitterly cold wind for anyone with human ears. But Catra hears her, she fears she always will, and the heartbroken words pierce her heart like hot pokers driven through her soul.

_ “I never felt like a prisoner with you.” _

Catra watches her retreating figure move further and further out of her life and she feels the warmth leave her world. The castle behind her howls with an empty ache as the ghosts of its halls return without the sun to keep them at bay.

“You lied to her.” Glimmer’s voice lacks any bite or judgment, just melancholy observation.

“I did.”

“Why?”   
  
“Because she deserves better than this. And even if I told her, she wouldn’t be able to fix it.”

“And why is that?”

Catra chooses to channel her mounting sorrow into anger as she shoots daggers at the candelabra at her feet, but they’re empty threats and wet with tears. Glimmer is unmoved, simply meeting her gaze with a hollow defeated look.

“Because… she just couldn’t Glimmer. I’m sorry.”

She returned inside and up the stairs, dark hallways swallowing her whole as they welcomed the prince back into their familiar despair. The only sound she heard now was her dark blue cape as it dragged across marble floors, the silence following close behind her with its horrid smile gleaming in delight. Catra is how she was always meant to be, alone. The good in her life was never meant to last, only to tease her long enough to allow hope back into her heart so she can be hurt again.

_ Stupid girl, what did I tell you? _

There she is, her mother’s voice had been drowned out for far too long.

_ Did you think she would stay? Did you think she would save you? _

The words in her head wrap cold fingers around her soul, that soothing numbness calling her back with its lonesome siren song. 

_ You were always meant to be alone. _

It’s safer there, it's where Catra belongs. She pulls her cape tighter around her, hoping to disappear into the cloth cocoon, then shoves her hands into her pockets and is met with…

She pauses when her left-hand finds something foreign and soft in her pocket. When she pulls it out she discovers a delicate little loved scrap of white cloth, covered in tiny stitched flowers and smelling of vanilla and turmeric. Adora’s handkerchief… when Adora was fumbling with her pockets she was sliding this in. This small token that had been her saving grace when she was alone and scared, the little piece of cloth she kept under her pillow to remind her that somewhere far away, she was loved. 

And she had given it to Catra.

She sees the little teardrops fall onto the cloth in her hands but she doesn't dare wipe her eyes with it, this is what she has left of her Adora and she won’t sully it. 

_ How quaint, a rag to remind you of your little pe- _

_ “Squeeze my hand. It’ll help.” _

Catra stands frozen in the hall, her mother’s voice overpowered by a new voice. One with a confident timbre and a wayward kindness that wraps you in it. Her loneliness doesn’t disappear at the sound of it, but it feels different. It's a bittersweet nostalgia.

Her feet begin to carry her forward, her mind unaware of their path but trusting her legs to know where they’re going. She turns the corner and the voice returns.

_ “It’s just perfect and I don’t think I know what to do with perfect.” _

She passes the library and feels her heart thunder at the memory of Adora standing there in awe of a door, not knowing the inky wonder waiting for her behind it. Beautiful dorky Adora whose eyes could light up over something so small like it was magic. She turns another corner, feet moving a little faster.

  
  


_ “I’m glad you had him and you most certainly deserved him Catra.” _

The way she held her close while she let the memories of her father wash over her, stroked her hair while she cried, and read her their story until she fell asleep. She’s running now, passing the study where she realized Adora wanted her like that. The first time she dared to believe someone like Adora could want her.

_ “I asked you to dance with me.” _

She was sprinting, eyes blinded by tears but she didn’t need to see where she was going. Years of haunting her own home meant she knew every turn by the smell of the air and the grit under her toes, leaving her free to lose herself in a vision of Adora twirling on the dancefloor. She had glowed with delight and giggled at the way the champagne bubbles tickled her throat. She was so happy, it was the most beautiful sight she’d seen.

_ “Could you help me out of my dress?” _

Catra burst into the West Wing, the smell of her dark retreat enveloping her senses immediately but all she could remember was Adora. Adora lying beneath her, trusting her, looking at her like she was the most important person in the world. And at that moment she had been because she was the person who Adora trusted to make her come apart and treasure her body and soul.

She runs through her room to her balcony, she hears Melog’s faint mewl as though they can sense her distress but for once Catra isn’t seeking to soothe the pain away. But she won’t hide from it either. No matter how much it rips and burns at her from the inside out, she wants to feel this because it means feeling her one more time. 

Standing on the balcony, cold wind whipping at her face, cape whipping in the wind Catra stares out and hunts for any sign of Adora. Prays that maybe just maybe she’ll come back, that she’ll ignore Catra and return and hold the prince in her arms one more time. 

But it's nothing but the same dark cold wasteland it’s always been. There is no Adora, there is just a wilting rose and a castle filled with people who deserved better.

_ “You’re not a monster, you’re Catra D'riluth. You’re my best friend, you’re my prince, and…”  _

Hers is the only voice she’ll ever hear, the ghost of summer days that could have been living in the back of Catra’s mind. Warm words of comfort that live alongside her father’s. Treasured moments, all too brief, that made Catra’s miserable life tolerable.

_ “you could never hurt me.” _

“...Adora.” comes a quiet choked sob. Because in the end she did hurt her, didn’t she?

“Adora I’m sorry,” Glaring into the inky black night, her fate bearing down on her as she stands defiant, “for everything.” 

_ “We’ll be together.” _

Alone, high above her cold kingdom, Catra roars like the broken animal she is into the uncaring night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey friends, how we feeling? 
> 
> So that was a lot like A LOT and this chapter came out to be the longest one I've done but honestly, I just wanted to cover all of that ground and didn't want to break anything up because you know, I like my highest of highs paired with devastation.
> 
> Really excited for the next chapter, got some great castle residents moments lined up for y'all especially with the big throwdown coming up.
> 
> Lil big shout outs to:  
> [Pandoras_hope](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pandoras_hope/pseuds/Pandoras_hope) For beta-ing this beast and pointing out stuff and things my messy brain could not fathom. Also, they let me read the new story they has in the works so like, be READY cause it's fun and I'm super excited to see it out.
> 
> [dragon_loves_books](https://www.instagram.com/dragon_loves_books/) For positive reinforcement and making amazing fanart and 100% they did a piece recently that fit this chapter so well but I didn't wanna spoil anything so I was just like o_o 
> 
> Anyways, thanks for reading! I'm hoping I can get back to my weekly schedule but it might be a tad longer as we're approaching the big finish and I wanna do it right :)
> 
> Let me know what you think and I'll see you next time!


	11. One Thing Forever True

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adora returns home to save Razz and the castle prepares against unwelcome guests

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sad girls are sad and this chapter is partly a love letter to Glimmer and her theme song "So What" because she's a badass

By the time he was 6 years of age, Hordak had learned two things: not fitting in was dangerous, and he did not fit in. He had never thought of himself as so different from his peers, he was leaner by nature and more fascinated by the science of things than others but he didn’t understand why that made him a target. The other boys would wait around corners to trip him or shove him into particularly muddy puddles after school and he learned that books he wanted to keep intact were best left under his bed at home. 

But one day that had changed, years of loneliness dissipated when Prime came to town. He was taller, strikingly handsome, and stronger than all the other boys in their village. Prime was also calm and calculating, more so than any boy should be. Adults were quick to praise this newcomer, he was a beloved prodigal son within 2 months of his family’s arrival. The children followed soon after, vying for his approval and going out of their way to fold him into their circle. Prime, however, showed no interest in joining some group or aligning himself with the pre-established circle of morons that occupied their corner of the world.

He was only interested in Hordak. Hordak, the town freak, and local weakling was the only person Prime extended a hand of friendship to. Prime had found him by the creek, he had been playing with a small contraption of his own design meant to test how water levels could be raised by man for transportation. At first, Hordak had attempted to sprint when he realized he was being observed, immediately tripping over his frantic feet and face planting a few inches from his takeoff point. But instead of a cruel laugh or kick to the side, he felt hands help lift him to his feet and the golden boy of their town was smiling at him with sharp interest.

“Why did you run?” The question surprised him, namely because the answer was so obvious.

“The others usually beat me up when they find me.” He watched as Prime processed his answer, studying him as though he were some unknown entity he had stumbled upon.

“And why is that?”

“Because…” and he paused for a moment, his mind supplying him with violent flashes of them breaking his things, tearing his books, shoving him to the ground, and kicking him until they were confident he was in too much pain to get up.  He felt rage at their intentional disdain for someone who had never so much as said a word to them.

“Because I’m smarter than them and they’re jealous. They’re all neanderthals and they hate that I can string together full sentences while they’re too busy dragging their knuckles through the mud!” A voice in him screamed to stop, reminding him that voicing such things would do little to endear him to anyone let alone help him survive. And yet… Prime was smiling at him, something akin to mirth danced behind his eyes before he tossed his head back and let loose a glorious confident bellow of a laugh that lit something long dead in Hordak. 

“You are absolutely fascinating, what did you say your name was?”

“Hordak.”

“Well Hordak, from now on I think we shall be great friends. Though perhaps friends isn’t the right word,” he paused and Hordak found he was hanging off of every word that fell from his honey lips.

“We’ll be brothers because brothers have to be loyal no matter what.” Prime grinned and slapped Hordak on the back. The impact was hard, but the very act made his heart pump with hope in a way it had long forgotten. “Doesn’t that sound nice, brother?”

From then on Hordak wasn’t the town oddball, he was the right hand of Prime and no one dared tease or taunt him. He was safe now, respected and important because he was beloved in the eyes of Prime. And he would never do anything to jeopardize his place in the sun.

Today, however… today was different. Hordak stood warm in the glow of lit torches as onlookers came to see the madwoman on the edge of town dragged to the asylum. He didn’t see why this warranted a crowd  and  the notion that someone being forcibly removed from their homemade for a spectacle bewildered him. To be frank, if only to himself in the safety of his mind, this felt off.

Sure the woman was odd, the sounds and oddities that emerged from her house at any given moment were perplexing but also, in his opinion, rather interesting. Plus, she never seemed to cause a problem. Yes, there were the odd comments spoken out of place or in the wrong setting but hardly would he qualify that as madness. But Prime… Prime was determined to have her removed. When he had called for the asylum to send their strongest extractor to remove the madwoman he had been set with no room for objection. Hordak had considered saying something, he had, but Prime would fix him with these looks that sent a chill through him, as though his brother’s traitorous thoughts had been shouted into his ear.

Without her granddaughter to defend her, she was unable to provide proof of security. She was old and  had no one  to monitor her insanity. Prime had called her a threat and danger to herself and others. 

So here he stood, watching as the crowd parted for the muscle-bound giantess moving towards where Prime and Razz stood bickering in the doorway, apparently tired of watching Prime agitate the old woman further. When Razz saw the interloper approach the m her face fell, no longer angered but allowing the horror of her situation to settle in. Prime was absolutely grinning, walking behind Huntara as she led the somber old woman towards the cart. Somewhere the librarians pleaded with the crowd to show decency and sense, but they were drowned out by jeers and palpable indifference.

  
  


As they neared the cart, his eyes met Razz’s for a split second and he saw only cold clarity in that ancient gaze. There was no madness in them, no danger. She was just different from the others.

Hordak felt ill.

What if he said something? Could he? Would anyone listen? 

He looked at the hungry eyes of his neighbors, buzzing with some anxious energy at the most interesting thing to happen to them since the war, and felt his throat close as a precautionary measure. It was out of his hands, not that it had ever been in them, to begin with. He turned away and began to slink away from the scene before him, already concocting an excuse for when Prime called him out for such behavior. Just as he toyed between saying he had craved a drink or needed the restroom he caught movement approaching. Its shadow was not a faint trick of the eyes but an incoming dark force that was bearing down on the display just a few feet behind him. He squinted to place a name to the being that showed no signs of slowing.

His mouth went dry.

His heart sprung into a frenzy.

His head whipped back as he watched the newcomer’s arrival catch Prime’s attention.

“UNHAND MY GRANDMOTHER THIS INSTANT!”

Villagers scattered as Adora ran her horse straight through the crowd until she halted mere inches from the asylum cart, dismounting in a furious rage and walking up to Huntara with shoulders squared and ready to fight. Hordak followed in her wake; his opportunity to slip away would no longer be an option. Despite being many feet taller than the blonde, he watched as the medical henchman seemed to lean away from the intense rage rolling off Adora in waves. Even Prime was startled by her presence; not so much her arrival but the power and command she demanded.

Adora seemed… changed. Not much remained of the kind bookworm who seemed to evade confrontation. While she was once more prone to outwitting opponents and slipping away unnoticed, the woman now radiated rage as she glowered at the man and woman attempting to remove her loved one. 

“I don’t know who you think you are, but you will get your hands off my grandmother immediately.” The cutting edge of Adora’s voice sent a shiver down Hordak’s spine as he watched Huntara stare down the woman half her size. The Amazonian woman quirked an eyebrow at Prime who seemed lost in his own calculations.

His plan had always involved Adora returning, however, he had never anticipated her coming back in the midst of the extraction. 

“Listen blondie I don’t kno-”   
  
“Adora thank goodness you’ve returned, we were all so worried about you. It’s such a relief to see you return unharmed.” Prime had moved between Adora and Huntara and stood tall and proud as that butter-smooth smile glided across his features, eyes sharp and sparkling. Adora stepped back but found Prime simply followed suit, like a predator playing with its prey as it works itself into a corner. Her eyes narrowed, his smile widened.

“Prime why the hell is-”

“Unfortunately while you were out, Razz caused quite a scene and everyone grew concerned for her well-being. So much so we had to call for help in handling the situation.” He turned to nod at Huntara who looked wildly displeased with the fanfare of this extraction but did not relinquish her grip on the old woman. “It seems  that without oversight she’s a threat to herself.”

“That’s ridiculous, Razz isn’t a threat to anyone. Besides, I’m here now so it doesn’t matter.” Adora spat her words  at him  and made to move around Prime to reclaim her gran when a cold hand clamped down with unrelenting force onto her wrist and twisted. Shocked eyes met dilated pupils as Prime grew stronger with every passing moment of her defiance and confusion. Hordak felt a tightness in his chest and was shocked to realize he was holding his breath, captivated by the scene unfolding and an unanticipated panic coursing through his veins.

“Oh Adora, I wish it were that simple but unfortunately you’ve proven to be a bit of a flight risk. Who’s to say you won’t wander off again? And then who would be here to watch your sweet gran then?” Adora bristled at the condescending tone and her face was turning an ugly shade of red. “Perhaps if you were to be married, and you had a husband who could account for your trustworthiness to the town it would be different…” 

A silence fell over the already quiet  crowd , all waiting to see if Adora would accept a lifeline from the town’s shining star. She could save herself and her grandmother, all by the grace of Prime, and find herself the luckiest woman on the arm of the local hero. Hordak knew the deal well, he had taken another version of it himself. It was the right choice, it was easier. A choice free from judgment that only asked for loyalty and obedience in exchange for safety and security. 

Harsh laughter shocked the bystanders and Prime himself as Adora threw her head back and held herself as cold cruel laughter shook Adora’s sturdy form. Prime’s horror turned to something dangerous as he processed the blatant rejection.

“Is that what this is? Some ploy to get me to marry you? You hired a thug and riled everyone in town up just to make me marry you? If it wasn’t so pathetic I’d almost be impressed!” Adora’s words were said with a strained smile and shot from her mouth like the first gunfire of a battle. “I will never, EVER, marry you. And you will not lock my gran up.” She jerked her wrist from his clutch and marched back towards Huntara. Hordak moved to stand by his brother’s side, though the closer he got the more he found the man had gone concerningly still. Prime was frozen in place but his eyes were lit with something that made Hordak’s stomach drop.

“I’m taking my grandmother and we’re leaving. Release her.” But the woman didn’t move, she merely looked just behind Adora where she could sense the chilling presence of Prime.

“Leaving?” It was not so much a question as an accusation. Adora didn’t turn to face Prime when she responded. Hordak cringed  as he heard the venom laced in those words; Adora was unaware of the poisoned darts aimed at her jugular.

“Yes, leaving. My… friend needs me. I’m taking my gran and going back to help her.” A sickeningly soft chuckle floats through the air behind her.

“What friend would that be, Adora? As far as anyone knew, you didn’t have any acquaintances outside the librarians. Isn’t that right everyone?” He gestured to the buzzing crowd who jeered in agreement. Huntara didn’t release her grip on Razz’s shoulders and Adora spun to face Prime, rage painting her normally gentle features.

“If you must know, the prince. She lives in the castle outside of town, where I was happily residing until I found out you were harassing my grandmother!” She jabbed a finger into Prime’s chest,  but his smile never faltered.

Adora paused, her words now out in the open and she glanced  around  to find a sea of vacant faces gawking back at her. The castle… Hordak felt something in the back of his mind spark at the words, something old and forgotten and just out of reach. But there was no castle, not that anyone knew of, and the hushed whispers were almost deafening as the townsfolk shot anxious glances amongst themselves. Prime let loose a condescending sigh, a hand to his mouth in a show of mock dismay.

“Oh poor Adora,” he turned to the crowd with the look of a martyr, “the poor girl has fallen to the same affliction as her dear grandmother. My friends, I’m afraid this is worse than we feared. Not only is the old woman mad, but she has inflicted this madness onto our sweet Adora.” He looked back at her, his cool composure working overtime to ensure a smile did not slip and disrupt his calculated performance of the concerned citizen. “I’m afraid they both will need to be taken away, for their own good.” 

A firm hand gripped down on Adora’s shoulder as Huntara made to take her away as well. Panic overtook the girl as she ripped herself from the grasp and looked to the crowd, searching for someone to speak up. She was met with a mix  of  pitying looks and irritated apathy. 

“No! It’s true! There’s a castle, just outside of town, with a prince and all the people who work there but they’re in trouble. I have to help them, you have to believe me. I’m not crazy!” More silence, Hordak looked to see the corners of Prime’s mouth twitch in delight.

“Oh Adora, surely you understand how ridiculous this sounds? Unless you have any proof, it’s best to submit and not cause any further trouble for you and your grandmot-”

“I can prove it!” She growled, though her eyes betrayed her confidence in the statement. She fumbled with the satchel bag slung over her shoulder and dove her hand in, grabbing around in hopes of some saving grace. 

She froze,  and  Hordak watched the way a flurry of emotions danced across her features as she slowly pulled an exquisite silver antique mirror from the bag. She stared at it in shock, like she had reached in and pulled out some horribly haunted artifact. Adora let the satchel fall to her side as she ran fingers over the glass, inexplicable heartbreak in her eyes.

“While beautiful, I don’t think this will suffice in swaying us of your delusions.” Snickers ran through the crowd. Adora’s features hardened. 

“I can prove it.” This time the words came out only a little louder than a whisper. “Show me the prince.” 

Hordak nearly collapsed in wonder when the object began to glow like magic; whatever that mirror was, it was not of this world. The world fell silent as the mirror lit up Adora’s somber face. She held it up to the crowd and they were faced with something… monstrous. 

From his proximity, Hordak could see the figure in the mirror howling in agony at the night sky. They weren’t human, the moonlight made its claws shine with deadly clarity and the ears and tail was that of a beast. But it stood like a human and it… cried? While certainly horrifying to behold, the creature didn’t seem threatening; if anything it looked too broken to be dangerous. 

His trance was soon shattered as Prime snatched the mirror out of Adora’s hands and stared into the mystical mirror, hunched  over  and eyes absorbing the image in his hands. 

“Brother… if this is real, do we let her go?” Hordak hadn’t realized the words were leaving his mouth until they were past his lips. Seconds passed before Prime stood up straight and tore his eyes from the monster in the mirror to meet his gaze.

Hordak had known his brother most of his life, he had memorized everything about Prime and served at his side with the knowledge  that  he knew the man best. The face of his best friend, hero, brother was alive with an insatiable viciousness.

He had never seen that look before. 

“Friends!” Prime turned to the worried crowd, already eager for his guidance and desperate to be relieved of the burden of thinking for themselves. “I am sorry to say, she speaks the truth.” Hushed murmurs and confused faces looked to Prime in confusion, feeding his soul. “And with that truth comes another, that we all are in grave danger!” Intakes of breath, nervous fidgeting, hands gripping hands, all looked to Prime with fear in their eyes. “There is a beast just outside our village and I fear it means to harm us. None of us are safe while this creature lives! The beast will make off with your children, it’ll come after them in the night!”

“What? No! Catra isn’t like that!” Adora lurched forward in an attempt to reclaim the mirror, only for Prime to hold it just out of her reach. She glared daggers at him before turning to the anxious mob before her. “Please, listen to me. The prince would never hurt any of you! I know she looks different but she’s kind and generous and gentle… she’s good.”

“Oh my Adora,” Prime clucked his tongue and shook his head, “if I didn’t know any better I would say you’ve come to care for the monster.” Frustrated tears in her eyes, Adora’s shoulders shook as the crowd glared back at her, yells for action drowning out her pleas for reason. 

“The only monster here is you, Prime.” And in a flash, a cracking sound resounded and all stood motionless in horror watching Adora put all of her unfathomable rages into her fist as she struck Prime squarely in his jaw. Hordak rushed forward to catch the man as he stumbled back, shell-shocked and ego wounded. 

A beat passed and then, “She’s working for the monster!”

“She’s led it here to eat our children!”

“Her and the old woman can’t be trusted!”

“They’ve never been one of us!”

Adora looked around in fear as the mob advanced on her, enraged by her betrayal. “No you don’t understand, Catra isn’t like that, please you have to listen to me!”  
  
  
“Enough of this, Adora!” Prime stood tall, no longer looking at Adora like an interesting toy he coveted but an obstacle. “If you’re not with us you're against us.” He turned to the crowd, arms open and encouraging, “We’re not safe until that thing's head is mounted on my wall, I say we kill the beast!” 

“No! You can’t do this!” But any argument was cut short as the strong hand from before found her. Huntara threw the girl over her shoulder like she weighed nothing and tossed Adora into the cart with Razz not a second behind her. Her protests were muffled by the cart’s door and Prime glowed at her distress.

The pit in Hordak’s stomach was growing, worse than it ever had before. This felt wrong. Razz wasn’t a threat, Adora wasn’t mad, and this monster… if it had been there this whole time, it didn’t make sense for it to be a threat now, right? He looked to Prime, the question on his lips dying as he saw the delightful bloodlust in his brother’s empty eyes.

“Grab whatever weapons you can find! Tonight we kill the beast!”

There was a beast out in the woods, this was certain. But for once, Hordak was worried about the monster in their own midst.

_____

After three months of working as Catra’s lady-in-waiting, Glimmer had all but resolved to call it quits. The princess was incorrigible, hostile, rude, and nothing Glimmer did seemed to do anything to make their relationship pleasant, let alone functional. The queen had advised her that her daughter was a nuisance and a “distinct sort of challenge created by Lucifer himself”, also making clear she was the latest of many who dared assist her lost cause of an offspring. But Glimmer loved a challenge, better yet, Glimmer loved proving people wrong. She got high off  of  doing things her parents had said she couldn't, and delighted in any opportunity to leave those who doubted her speechless. So this princess was a challenge? Big whoop. Glimmer was an unscalable hurdle who laughed in the face of challenges that dared to face her.

This challenge, however, seemed quite apt at hurdles.

If she wasn’t dodging into hidden passages or getting Glimmer lost in the hedge maze, she was leaving dead bugs in her shoes or hanging her underthings from high up tree branches by the front gate. Princess Catra was a nightmare, all the privilege of royalty and the personality of a 10-year-old who just discovered the concept of pranking.

It was exhausting. 

But on the third month of her employment, a Thursday morning to be precise, she found all the halls barren and devoid of any signs of life. No hum of servants or smells making their slow and steady parade through the corridors; instead, a sort of grey uncertainty hung overhead. By the time Glimmer made her way to the kitchen, her hands twitched with unnamed anxiety. It was there, amongst a huddled group of servants,  that  she learned of the queen’s departure. She had run off with the royal advisor under the cover of darkness. They must have planned to do so for ages since the treasury had clearly been picked through and many valuables around the castle were nowhere to be found. 

No one had seen the princess, but there was no doubt in anyone’s mind  that  she had been left behind. The queen would never have taken her along. As they muttered questions and musings on what would become of them all without the queen to guide them (for surely the unruly princess wasn’t capable of running a kingdom), Glimmer did what she did best.

Prove people wrong.

She grabbed a tray and loaded it with forgotten pastries, fruits, and a piping hot teapot with two cups and made her way to the library. It took some negotiating and more than a few silent curses to get the large wood door open while balancing the heavy tray, but she eventually made her way in and gracefully placed the tray on the small table before settling into the couch and making herself a cup of tea. 

“I’m assuming you heard the news?” The pink-haired girl spoke into her teacup, more of a statement than a question. There was silence, a quick rustling from above, then silence again. Glimmer sipped on her tea and considered her next words carefully.

“The staff manager, what’s his name, seemed to imply  that  the castle  has no leadership without the queen here to lead. I intend to serve him his notice before the end of the day unless you have any objections?” A huff, more shuffling, and silence once again. “Wonderful.”

Glimmer finished her tea and poured herself another cup, attempting to channel her mother’s patience and her father’s understanding, as she continued her waiting game. 

“I saw her leave…”, the quiet confession is nearly swallowed by the massive room, but Glimmer catches it and sips her tea, waiting. A few more minutes passed and then a figure was moving from the top of one of the massive shelves and down the ladder before wordlessly seating themselves in the old and massive dark armchair. Glimmer set her cup down and prepared one for Catra, the princess nodding her head in a wordless “thank you” before gripping the cup close and sipping from it. A deep breath and then,

“I was up there, by the window, and I saw him loading things into the carriage. I guess they wanted to stay out of sight. She came out after him, bags in hand, and I swear she knew I was watching. She just all of  a  sudden looked up like she could see me seeing her, and she…” Catra’s hands are shaking, hot liquid spilling on her fingers and running down her wrist. She doesn’t notice though, just stares straight at Glimmer with tears running down her cheeks, “She smiled at me. She never smiled once, not a single time in my entire life, but right then she just smiled. Like she suddenly could without me holding her back.” 

For the first time Glimmer sees Catra for what she really is: lonely.

She picks up her tea and blows, using the action to give Catra a moment and not spook her in this vulnerable state. Pity is not Glimmer’s strong suit, and she doesn’t think Catra would appreciate that anyway. 

“First of all, your mother is an absolute cunt.” Glimmer takes another sip of tea and fights the urge to grin as Catra nearly chokes to death, clearly unprepared to hear such language from staff. “Secondly, I would smile too if I thought I was never going to find another dead bug shoved in my shoes.” She smirks at Catra and motions to the tray of food between them. Catra eyes her then reaches for a danish and begins munching, relaxing into her chair bit by bit. When she’s finished she holds out her cup and Glimmer happily refills it for her. 

“So, we’re getting rid of our staff manager, anyone else on your hit list Sparkles?”  
  
  
“Hmmm, I have some suggestions. Though, Your Majesty, I can’t imagine it’s anything compared to yours.”

After that day, the lady-in-waiting never referred to Catra as a princess and Catra lost the desire to hide grim surprises in the toes of Glimmer’s slippers. Glimmer becomes Catra’s first friend, whether the prince realizes it or not.

_____

  
  


When Glimmer finds Catra, she finds a hollow shell of the vibrant pain-in-the-ass she has lovingly stood by for years on end. Gone is the mischievous glint in her eye, the playful teasing rasp in her voice, and the unprecedented bravado she often uses to cover the gaping holes in her self confidence.

  
She is her own phantom, haunting the little balcony off of her room, unbothered by the snow steadily settling on her head and shoulders  and gazing forlornly into the vast black sky where the people she loves continue disappearing. Melog does their best to urge her back to life, rubbing the edges of their cushion against her legs in an attempt to bring some comfort to her. She seems unaware of anything outside her internal anguish.

“You can’t stay out there forever, fur only does so much.” A twitch of an ear is the only indication she hears Glimmer, eyes glued to something impossibly out of reach. The candelabra makes her way to her prince’s side and looks up to see frozen trails of tears shining in the warm glow of candlelight. 

“I think she’ll come back, Catra… I saw the way she looks at you-”   
  
“It doesn’t matter,” croaks a distant voice, hoarse from crying into the empty air, “she doesn’t love me and even if she did, it’s too late. If she comes back all she’ll find are dusty antiques and whatever is worse than what I already am… I’m sorry Glim.” Only then does the prince break her trance to cast her sad eyes on the woman who served as her right hand with fearless persistence even in the darkest moments, who was still there with her now as her mind continued to drown itself in images of Adora and the way her laugh filled a room. 

They stood there together for what felt like ages, silently staring at each other, old friends who couldn’t bring themselves to say what felt like inevitable surrender. Glimmer was the stronger one, she always had, but at this moment she felt that role splinter in her grasp. This couldn’t be it… right?

And then a sound, something far away  and  foreign. Not the sound of creatures in the night but words, murmurs that came together to create a hum that carried all the way to the balcony and met whatever sort of ears Glimmer had left. She rushed to the edge and saw a glow in the forest, steadily advancing on the long-forgotten castle and bringing the sounds of people. People!

“Catra, people are coming!” She looked up to the prince with eager excitement blossoming in her chest, only to feel a stone drop in her gut when she saw despair across the feline’s features. “Catra?”   
  
“They’re coming for me Glim… I can hear.” Glimmer looked back to the glow, brighter than before, moving amongst the trees.

“Coming for you?” 

Catra raised a dejected claw to her ears, twitching them a little for emphasis before letting the hand fall to clutch at her other arm.

“They’re chanting “kill the beast” so I can’t imagine who else they’re referring to…” 

Horror sings through Glimmer’s veins, followed shortly by an unholy rage that makes her dull flames ignite much bolder than she knew possible. “Adora must have told them about us… about me.” Catra doesn’t move though, no alarm or urgency flashes through her features, she merely stands as a criminal resigned to the gallows. But Catra hasn’t earned this. Glimmer turns once more to  the  menacing lights advancing, and she dares them to test their flames against hers. 

“We have to fight them, Catra! We need to warn the others and prepare. I’m sure we can get the heavier hitters out of their rooms, and the breakable folks hidden away and then-”

“There’s no point Glim. Let them come.”

No. No, no no-no. Absolutely no.

“Catra you can’t be serious?!” The prince turns her head only slightly, enough to convey her unflinching acceptance before facing back to observe her impending doom.

Had she the time, Glimmer would scream. She would yell at Catra until she lost her voice, and then she would pummel the fool with all she had until she was too exhausted to stand. She would lay on the ground panting and glaring into the face of the dark shadow looming above them and curse the fates that loved to challenge the girl who refused to back down.

“I’m not letting some assholes hurt our family Catra.” 

With a heavy heart that she once again forced herself to push to the back of her mind, Glimmer turned and hurried to alert the others.

It wasn’t that she refused to back down; the truth was, Glimmer was simply incapable of it.

  
  


_____

“How much time do we have now?”

“Ugh, well looks like the mongrels are about 10 minutes out still though with their collective IQ I’d say it takes them 5 minutes to figure out how the gate works.” DT drawled with evident disdain from their vantage point at the high window of the main hall. 

“Perfuma, where are we on our fragile friends?” 

The teapot came wheeling around the corner, stopping promptly at the foot of the stairs to look up at their fearless leader.

“I have them safely tucked away in the dungeon. It’s not ideal, but hopefully, anyone that makes it through won’t be eager to explore that part of the castle.” 

“And you’re sure you won’t join them?” The lady-in-waiting knew the answer but still couldn’t escape the horrible image of the teapot being thrown from her perch atop her cart. But Perfuma shook her spout, a fiery determination in her eyes.

“Absolutely not. I will not hide while my family is in danger. Besides,” she allowed herself a small smile as she gazed up and let her eyes rest on the wardrobe proudly guarding the top of the stairs, “I don’t think I could be anywhere she isn’t tonight.” 

Glimmer gives her a sad smile and nods, looking around at the odds and ends she knows and loves  as they  prepare the main hall for a fight. Anyone who is able has made their way to the front hall, ready to use the element of surprise for all it’s worth. The enemy may have hands, but they have a wardrobe prepared to launch herself from a banister, a piano with a history of arson, a teapot and clock who are deadly when forced to abandon their peaceful personas, and a candelabra with an uncontrollable urge to unleash her suppressed rage.

Most importantly though, they have a maniacal teacup.

“Entrapta, where are we on… well, what exactly do you call them?” The teacup jumps and dances, landing each time on Emily as they roll around the room in absolute euphoria. Yes, despite the deadly and dangerous implications of the evening, Entrapta had truly come alive at Glimmer’s declaration of war. The assistant groundskeeper had so many MANY tests she wanted to run and FINALLY she had humans to play with! 

“Experiments, Glimmer! And 80% are up to full working capacity, though we could be at 100% if you’d reconsider your ban on anything with spikes. They’d be the most effective and I have so many pits in the garden which could eliminate most of the mob-”

“No spikes, and if we survive this you are going to tell me where every single one of those “experiments” are. Got it?” Entrapta merely shrugs, the glint of exhilaration in her eyes unaffected by Glimmer’s ban on death pits. After all, between trap doors, statues she has long since rigged with surprises, the modifications she made to Mermista when she was sleeping that one time, and that thing in the hallway, the possibilities are endless! 

Glimmer smiles in spite of herself at the way Entrapta delights in  having  almost complete free reign to do as she pleases. The reality is she doesn’t know how many moments like this they have. Even if they win, the rose is… but that’s a problem for later. They still have time. No one is saying goodbye yet. They have a home to defend.

“Glimmer?” A  voice  break s her train of thought as the familiar weight of what she fondly remembers as Bow’s hand rests on what would be her shoulder. The familiar ache of them tears through her mind, taking advantage of her weakened emotional defenses. “You okay?” His kind eyes soothe the painful pangs of her heart, momentarily silencing her fears on the mob just minutes from their doorstep. She lets herself remember him: his tall but never imposing stature and how he always lifted her a little when he hugged her, how she could always feel the warmth of his midriff pressed against her since he insisted on never wearing a full shirt  and how it always made her flush, the sound of his heart thrumming in her ear when she had her head rested against his chest and it’s consistent beating as calming as the ebb and flow of an ocean’s shore. 

She missed him so much, even as he stood a few inches from her.

“Bow… I love you.” The clock’s eyes were so tender and kind and filled with a bittersweetness that haunted almost everyone who resided in the castle. It was the first time she had said it, and she had held out for so long in the hopes  that when she finally did they’d truly be face to face. But with the sounds of a crowd growing closer and the last petal losing its grip by the minute, she feared that dream  was no longer an option.

“I love you too, Glimmer.” And the clock leaned in until she felt the gentle ticks of his clock hands against her metal silhouette, almost like a heartbeat, almost like the kiss she had dreamed  of  for this moment.

But they were out of time. Glimmer cleared her throat and turned to face her motley crew once more.

“Okay, everyone. I know most of you are scared,” almost on cue Entrapta giggled with glee, “but I want you to know… I’m so proud of all of you. In spite of everything that has happened, every stupid unprecedented terrible thing that has been thrown our way, we’re all still here. We’re still fighting. We’ve faced so much worse than these idiots, and they have no idea who they’re messing with.” Sea Hawk let loose a whoop of agreement and the residents all seemed to smile and trill along with him.

“Alright, on that note, get into position everyone!” And suddenly, like one of Entrapta’s well-oiled machines, everyone shuffled into their predetermined places, ready for attack. Glimmer waved her hand and the candles began to dim, casting the room into darkness save for the moonlight beaming through the window and the growing glow of torches approaching the door.

“And lastly…”, came Glimmer’s commanding voice in the inky room, “fuck them up.”

_____

“Dearie, you’re going to break something if you don’t sit a minute.” Adora ignored her gran’s advice and continued alternating between ramming the cart’s door with her shoulder and attempting to punch a hole through the old wood (neither was proving successful). But Adora couldn’t stop, she absolutely had to get out and warn the others, warn Catra. Fresh tears clouded her eyes as her imagination cruelly supplied her with images of Prime towering over Catra’s lifeless body, her hand frozen in its reach for help it wouldn’t receive. Catra had sent her to save Razz and all she had managed to do was send a bloodthirsty mob to her doorstep. And the others… she thought of gentle Perfuma and her porcelain physique or DT armed only with their feathers against an angry torch.

Her knees rebelled against her and gave out; she  slumped against the door as her body was wracked with helpless angry sobs. Eventually, she felt the firm grip of her grandmother’s hand on her shoulder as the old woman settled beside her, patient as always, letting Adora come to her.

“I ruined everything…” 

The old woman laughed at her heartbroken confession.

“Don’t be ridiculous, girl. From what I can see that brute made the mess, you just stepped in it.” Adora’s tear-stained face turned to find small comfort in the warm gaze of Razz.

“But… I left you alone and Prime hurt you,  and  now Catra’s alone and Prime is going to hurt her.” More tears spilled, that rage bubbling over and making a sputtering mess of her soul. “I keep letting people get hurt and Catra… Razz what if I never see her again? She’s not a monster like they said! Prime, he’s not like the others, he won’t stop ‘till he kills her.” Another horrible gift from her imagination: a vision of Prime lording his latest prize above the mantle, glassy eyes that had looked at her so tenderly frozen in eternal fear, men sloshing their drinks in self-serving praise while the head of the woman she loved served as decoration for her murderers. “Razz… granny…” words choked themselves as the cart grew smaller and smaller around her, “she needs me. I have to help her… it’s all my fault…” Wrecked and broken she fell into her grandmother’s arms as a cry of sorrow tore out from her chest, finally free to relay the torment of her night and all that happened.

One moment she had been spinning in the beautiful ballroom, then she had been warm and safe in Catra’s bed while her heart fluttered in ecstasy… and then terror for Razz and Catra’s brusque dismissal and then Prime and now. Now she was trapped, not 20 feet from her home and horse, unable to be there for the people who needed her. She had been selfish and everyone had suffered.

Stupid Adora. Stupid selfish Adora. She couldn’t save Razz from Prime’s scheme, she couldn’t stop the villagers from attacking the defenseless residents, and she couldn’t keep Prime from hurting Catra. She had failed everyone on every account and now she was forced to face the consequences of her own ineptitude. 

“Hey, Blondie.” Adora was pulled from her personal hell by the gruff voice of the imposing cart owner. Looking up to the small window of the door, she saw the woman’s piercing eyes staring at her behind the bars  and a growl rose from somewhere deep within her.

“Whoa, easy there killer.” 

Adora, tightly wound and seconds from springing up and attempting to grab at the woman through the bars, is forced to stay seated  as Razz’s grip on her shoulder tightens.

“What do you want?” The woman’s eyes close while she lets out a heavy sigh, and then another sound… jingling?

“Listen Blondie, I know I locked you all up but I swear it was for your own good. I’ve seen how ugly a mob can turn and you weren’t doing yourself any favors.” The jingling is now joined with the sounds of clicks on the door. Could  it be ?

“I don’t know what exactly is going on here, but I know a set up when I see one.” With that, the door swung open. The woman  held it open as Adora cautiously stepped out, then turned to help Razz. “You r best bet is to pack up quick and get out of town before they get back.”

There it was, the responsible thing to do: pack their things, get their cart hooked to Swift Wind and get out of town before they came back, lost to the wind with no one the wiser as to what had taken place. 

And yet…

“I’m afraid that’s not going to be possible Dearie,” Razz smiled up at the woman offering them escape, “Adora isn’t quite done with her adventure.” The old woman turned and took her speechless grandaughter’s hands in hers, giving them each a quick kiss before gripping them to her chest. “My Adora, so brave and so strong, always trying to do what’s right and so very bad at wanting things for herself. It’s time for you to go Dearie, or you’ll be late.”

Adora’s throat closed, contradicting thoughts and wants raging war in her mind. But she couldn’t leave Razz. She couldn’t. She opened her mouth to communicate just as much but her gran was always one step ahead of her.

“Dearie, I promised you a rose. Now don’t let that boorish oaf take her from you. I raised you better.” She released Adora’s hands and gave her a bop on the head for good measure. Adora stood,  looking wide-eyed at the old woman who had raised her, this bizarre and mysterious old wonder that simply knew everything and nothing all at once.

“You… you’re sure?” Razz beamed up at her and gave a firm nod before turning to face the asylum worker who had been watching the exchange with apt confusion. 

“Now you have had quite a day, haven’t you? Why don’t you come help Razz make a pie, it’s the least you could do. Come along.” And with that Razz shuffled away to the house and disappeared over the threshold, leaving the two women without another word. Adora looked anxiously  at  Swift Wind,  who  seemed as agitated and anxious as she was, then back to the woman who had imprisoned and freed her in one night. 

So far her shortest imprisonment to date, but that was a thought for another day. 

“My gran… she’s not crazy. You’re not going to take her away once I leave.. are you?” The woman rubbed at her temples and let loose what Perfuma would probably describe as a “calming” breath. 

“No, I suppose I won’t.” She let her arms fall and stood tall, fixing Adora with a stern look. “But Blondie, you should know I can only do so much if they all come back before you do. That fellah, Prime, he’s dangerous. You up for that?” Adora’s fists clenched at the sound of his name.

“Yes. I have to be.” The woman regarded her a second longer, considering the blonde girl in the flowery dress before her, then smiled in spite of herself. 

“You got fight in you Blondie, which is good. You’ll need it. Take this,” she held out a small pocket knife and Adora took the handheld weapon without question, “just in case. Don’t want you going in there unarmed.”   
  
“Thank you…”

“Huntara.” The woman kept her arm out and opened her hand to Adora, who gladly took it in her own and gave it a firm shake. 

“Adora. And, thank you, for helping us and looking after gran.”   
  
“Yeah well, it’s been a helluva day and honestly pie doesn’t sound half bad around now.” She shrugged and turned to the house, looking over her shoulder one last time at Adora, “You take care Blondie.”

Adora nodded and, once Huntara had gone inside, she allowed herself one moment, a mere millisecond to close her eyes and process everything. Her fear, her hurt, her longing, her confusion, and all the memories that accompanied those emotions.

But at the end of every thought is a footnote, one whose eyes twinkle when they tell a joke and whose raspy voice says her name like it’s something precious. It pulls her back to reality with gentle hands and soft kisses and a feeling of completeness Adora hadn’t known she was without until Catra first held her hand.

Adora ran to Swift Wind and threw herself atop the saddle, and with reins in hand, she guided  him  back  toward where they came  from  and the two galloped into the night. 

She wasn’t giving up on Catra. She never would. 

Adora would do anything for the woman she loved. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeeeeeey friends how we doing? I know this took a second, turns out having a coup a few blocks from your office and shutting down your city can really put a damper on your motivation to write. But we're back! And boy things are tense huh?
> 
> I know this chapter had our gals apart but it won't be for long, and Adora figured some things out. I really enjoyed playing with the POVs and also the idea of Hunatara and Razz making pie just absolutely warms my heart.
> 
> And Glimmer... man I came into this fic with an idea of how it'd be but Glimmer really just kept being the absolute MVP of being the keeper of the braincells. 
> 
> I wanna give a big thanks and shout out to:
> 
> [Pandoras_Hope](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pandoras_hope/pseuds/Pandoras_hope) for once again being the all star Beta I do not deserve but this story desperately needed!
> 
> [Dragon_loves_books](https://www.instagram.com/dragon_loves_books/) Who keeps making amazing crazy emotional sketches and art based off this story and also serves as a wonderful cheerleader when I have block :)
> 
> [MCZ19](https://www.deviantart.com/mcz19/art/Adora-and-the-Beast-866069384) who sent me this amazing wonderful piece they made based on the story and I cannot tell you how my heart just absolutely crumbled at the detail and heart that went into it
> 
> Y'all are really wonderful and this story is fun to write cause y'all are so delightful <3
> 
> Also with this being almost done, I've started thinking about the next story to jump into and I can't decide if I want to do a Modern Author/Curse AU or a fluffy Modern AU where everyone works at a gym. 
> 
> Anyways, see you next time!


	12. You’re My Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Up in a tower, high above the snowy grounds and chaos, one petal remains.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you at the end friends, I hope you enjoy this as much I enjoyed making it.

Micah Moon loved his wife. Angella was haughty in the most affectionate way, but her stern patience had saved them both from trouble on more than one occasion. While he could sometimes be a little brash, jumping into harm's way without a second thought, she was the voice of reason that kept them safe. When they had heard the commotion and seen their neighbors trickle out of their houses, all heading in the same direction, Micah practically sprinted while Angella called after him to stay calm. 

Prime was a blight on this town. The people here were small-minded, of that there was no doubt, but they weren’t unredeemable. The couple had settled there because they had seen potential and interest in the townsfolk, and hoped their library and worldly learnings could help enrich the small community. Initially, they had seen some success but over time, and to their horror, they had watched the corrupt machinations of Prime grow from egocentric child to cultish brute. As a child, he had been almost wicked, but his angel face and way with words was unable to fool the Moon family. In his furthest memory, Micah could always swear he heard the voice of a little girl retelling of his behavior at great length.

But that never made any sense. The little girl’s voice was unplaceable, just some oddity that lived in the back of his mind. 

When the Moons had seen the mob gathered outside of Razz’s, Micah had plowed through the crowd and shouted for reasoning and logic. A swift punch to the gut and a passing kick to his ribs had quickly silenced his outcry, and all he could manage was to listen as he heard the drama unfold. Poor Adora had appeared and fought for her grandmother, and like a sorcerer Prime had once again cast his spell. Adora was locked up and the town screamed for blood.

Micah couldn’t speak to the existence of a beast, but he could speak to Adora’s character. And if some creature lived in the woods, it had never brought them harm before and he saw no reason to think it suddenly would. So as the others had made their way after Prime, chanting like some crazed militia, Micah gathered his strength and stood, making his way back home as fast as possible. He had been certain Angella hadn’t been far behind him but there was no sign of her. Panic gripped his heart, he had to stop them, but he couldn’t do it without her. A few more minutes of worry warping his mind and home was within his reach. He sent a silent prayer to whoever may be listening that Angella would be there.

Feet from the door his prayer was answered. Light spilled from the open doorway as Angella strode out to greet him, an old Etherian walking cane in her hand.

“Angella! Thank gods you’re alright, I couldn’t find you and when they left I was worried-”

“I’m fine, my love, but we have to hurry if we’re going to catch up with them.” The determination in her eyes wasn’t unusual, but the rage was certainly new.

“Are you sure you want to go? They’re restless and half-mad on Prime’s nonsense. It’ll be dangerous.” His wife looked down at him unflinchingly, cool and collected in the face of danger, then raised the walking stick in her hands only to bring it down on her leg, snapping it in two. She handed a piece to Micah with a soft smile.

“I know.”

_____

Behind the bleak castle’s large wooden doors there was certainly a commotion occurring. Angella and Micah stood just outside the doors and listened to the thunks and yelling taking place just on the other side, a tremor of fear running through the tall woman’s body. She could turn and leave now, this fight wasn’t really hers and Micah would certainly understand. He was the brave one and she was the rational one who hung back. But today… she saw the way her husband had been cast aside as her neighbors watched and cheered while Prime harassed an old woman and the girl who had refused him. Her blood had been boiling… and it still was, but that voice in the back of her head was starting to scream “run”.

She wouldn’t. Not today. 

With a quick nod to Micah and a look of love shared between them, they pushed on the doors to reveal…

What was happening before them, she couldn’t begin to ascribe a descriptor to it. Because it appeared, despite all logic, that the townsfolk were battling… furniture? All around them was chaos as Angella saw her neighbors be flung about or run fleeing as historically inanimate objects attacked from all angles. 

Her eyes jumped from scene to scene, she saw a large wardrobe shoot what appeared to be scarves into the faces of three men who were then shoved down the steps by a steaming teapot on a rolling cart. Then there was the sight of the baker, arms bound behind his back with an apple in his mouth scrambling as a cackling feather duster shouting “Darling wait we haven’t finished prepping you!” sauntered after him. Screams came from some dark room down the hall, emitting puffs of black smoke and some sort of shrieking sea shanty through its open doors. 

She was about to ask her husband if she was suffering a head injury when Micah practically pulled her arm out of its socket, just barely avoiding the stampede of men rushing past them covered in some sort of sticky black tar. Only seconds behind them came Hordak of all people, his hands outstretched as he held a teacup jumping with glee screaming “WAIT I NEED TO KNOW IF YOU EXPERIENCE ANY SYMPTOMS” chasing the terrified men into the gardens. It was sheer madness, certainly unlike anything Angella had ever experienced in her life. Though, at least, it seemed the castle didn’t need any help defending itself. 

“Now I gotcha!” Angella turned at the harsh voice of the butcher, sneering and saturated in malice, gripping a struggling candelabra as he marched towards the roaring fireplace. The little candelabra screamed, the frantic voice of a young woman yelling for someone named Bow, and desperately looking to anyone who could keep her from being tossed in the fire. In her search for a savior, what looked like eyes locked with Angella’s and the struggling light source stilled as she fell into a shocked stupor like the sight of Angella was somehow more astounding than the immediate need to save herself.

Perhaps more astounding was how Angella found herself running at the candelabra’s captor, a broken walking stick above her head, screaming at the top of her lungs while rage fueled her forward. It was inexplicable, but something about the voice had reached into Angella’s heart and demanded protection. 

It was instinct. Instinct that caused the heavy walking stick to crash down on the unaware butcher, instinct that ripped the candelabra from his hands as he slumped into unconsciousness, and instinct as her hands clutched the ornamental decor close as she searched for injury.

The candelabra looked up at Angella, its little metal body stilled as it took her in like she was the most miraculous thing, despite being in a room filled with warring houseware. 

“...Mom?” And it was wrong, Angella wasn’t anyone’s mother, but something about the way the word fell from the little candle holder’s metal mouth sounded so familiar. It sounded right. Her confusion must have shown on her face because the candelabra gave her a pained little smile as one of her arms patted her wrist. She wasn’t sure when she had started to cry, but the damp tracks of silent tears began to drip down her neck.

“It's okay,” came reassuring, if not broken-hearted, kindness from the little metal girl, and something inside of Angella broke though she still couldn’t name it.

“Mo- Angella, I need you to put me down. I have to help my friends.”

“No…” a faceless voice inside her screamed for her to grip the candelabra tight in her grasp and keep her safe, “it’s too dangerous.”

“I’ll be safe, but you have to let me go. They need me.”

So she released the little candelabra, watched her hurry away back into the fray, and felt as if her heart ripped itself into pieces for no understandable reason. It was like a part of her was in mourning but in an empty graveyard with no visible markers in sight. 

A gentle hand on her shoulder, and she looked up from her kneeling position on the floor to find the worried eyes of Micah searching her own.

“Micah I- I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Her husband’s face was a mess of conflict, wanting to comfort his wife while something else weighed on his mind. “Dear, what is it?”  
  
  
“No one has seen Prime since they arrived. He’s missing.”

_____

Tracking was Prime’s second favorite part of a hunt: discovering the little nuances that signaled a creature had passed through, the clues that spoke to where they were going, looking for any signs of weakness or exhaustion. While there was beauty in an easy kill, the swift arrow to the back of a resting creature's neck as it basked in foolish respite, Prime loved a fight. There was a power in being the final thing someone saw as the light left their eyes. In the war, he had seen it so many times, the desperation and silent pleas as wide eyes begged him for mercy. It was what a god must feel like. 

The deeper down the dank halls of the decrepit castle Prime crept, the sounds of the chaos in the front hall fell away until he could no longer hear their desperate echoes. The flame that always moved him forward flickered in delight at the memory, the great doors slamming open to reveal the dark quiet of the main hall. It was completely still, unnaturally so, and energy danced at his fingertips while his eyes scanned the ornate and unusual collection of houseware littering the space. Something was wrong and the anticipation sent a shiver down his spine. This was a trap. His prey knew he was coming.

Perfect.

It was when someone, maybe that grating tailor, picked up the candelabra and suddenly the object screamed “NOW” and the room came to life. Literally. Every object sprung to action and suddenly men were battling clocks and teacups like some bizarre dream. His followers were all caught off guard, half sprinting back outside to cower in the snowy garden and the others just wailing fools flinging their arms about in a panic. An embarrassing sight to say the least. 

Hordak had gripped at his arm and made some cowardly suggestion to turn back and abandon the mission. He spoke of regret and mistakes, begged Prime to spot the error in his actions where there was none. The earnestness in his eyes made Prime’s stomach churn in disgust. He cast the man away, shoving him to the ground and dismissing his skittish sidekick. The man had always made for a useless shadow, this was merely another instance of Prime watching the man fall below his already dismal expectations. 

Prime was accustomed to battle, and while he wasn’t immune to the shock of seeing a chaise lounge strike a grown man in the stomach, he knew how to avoid distractions. With the grace and ease of an exalted warrior such as himself, he wove his way through the madness with not a scratch upon him. He had known where to go, the large wardrobe was clearly placed to keep anyone from moving towards the western wing of the castle. A paltry excuse for a strategy. He had merely let her distract herself with his lessers and slipped past her without notice.

They may have had the element of surprise, but he had experience. Parlor tricks couldn’t hold a candle to that, no matter how loudly the candle screamed.

A cold brush of air drifted past him as he turned down another mangled hallway, the beast's claw marks littering the halls and portraits at every turn. It excited him to think of the creature attached to those talons, the carnal bloodlust that surely lived in the creature's eyes making the hairs on Prime’s arms stand on end. 

Another wisp of cold air caught his attention, his eyes finding a collection of wall hangings, piled on top of each other like some suspended cavern hangings thick, heavy, and foreboding. He had found it, he was certain. This is the monster’s nest.

_____  
  


It’s a dark thought holding court in her mind as she stares at the rose and its last petal, clinging to the stem high above it's fallen fellows that lay wilted beneath it. Catra has never wanted to die, but if she did would the curse be broken? It was her curse, after all, her anger that dragged the people foolish enough to care for her into this stagnant hell. Were she not around to face its punishment… would her living collateral be freed of the punishment? Without her, there would be no one to learn the lesson, no one there to appease the sorceress, just a castle without a ruler and servants with no one to serve.

But if Catra were to die… what would happen to Adora? 

“She’d live her life, just like you told her to.” She speaks to herself, voice cracked and raspy from crying in the cold air. Another vision of Adora smiling on the arm of a faceless stranger plagues her mind for the umpteenth time and Catra’s heart finds new ways to splinter, the remaining shards making a mess in her chest. 

Her Adora, her silly sweet Adora that never belonged to her in the first place, deserved a carefree life. She deserved to smile every day, deserved a partner who wouldn’t bog her down with their trauma and insecurities. Adora needed someone to just hold her close and tell her how perfect she was then give her the space to brighten the world around her. All Catra could offer was to make Adora her prisoner like everyone else caught in her web, trap her light under glass and make her a beautiful ornament in her crumbling castle. Adora deserved so much more. And yet…

Catra stood as snow accumulated on her little balcony, ignoring the commotion and chaos on her front doorstep and neglecting her friends, to stare at the empty inky night sky and look for her. Her feline eyes honed in on every movement on the horizon, the darkness no hurdle to her all-consuming pining. She had sent Adora away, freed her from the horrors of her ghoulish corner of the world. But she couldn’t bear the thought of missing the first sight of blonde hair running towards her, grey eyes locking on hers and promising she was home, that this place could be her home. 

That Catra could be a home for her.

And as long as that petal clung on for dear life, Catra would wait and watch. It was her final curse, a closing punishment for a lifetime of driving everyone else away. 

She heard them coming, whoever they were. Their careful steps were quiet as can be, and she imagined they thought themselves a shadow gliding through the darkness to catch her by surprise. She wanted to be angry. She longed for the rage she used to know so well to return once more, drown out her feelings and pull her from her wallowing, but she was empty. Between the loss of Adora and the impending fate of her little found family fighting for their home in spite of the torturous end awaiting them, Catra couldn’t find the will to fight anymore. 

She was tired. Tired of grieving, of losing, of coming so close only to fall away while everything she wanted faded in her fingertips. Her father’s memory was now joined with visions of pranking a human Glimmer, afternoons listening to Scorpia ramble, watching Entrapta install yet another deadly device in the garden, and teasing Bow as she once again abused the library ladders. Her human life seemed more like a story she had heard rather than moments she had lived. And Adora, her beautiful Adora, who might return only to find a brainless lonely monster haunting the halls of a place that used to be home, her face broken in horror at seeing all their friends eternally frozen in their forms as a snarling thing that used to be Catra growls at the woman she can’t remember.

So she lets them creep close, hears them stop only a few feet away, and feels their eyes wander her loathsome form. Perhaps they want to be acknowledged; this intruder is undoubtedly one of the many who gleefully chanted for her death as they traipsed through the grounds with torches raised. They came to kill a beast and must be so disappointed to find whatever broken thing Catra is now.

“Face me.” The command is cool and confident, if not mildly perturbed. Too bad. She has no energy for anger but she has enough to manage petty disobedience. If they want to kill her, they’ll have to do it on her terms and her terms are that she never breaks her watch. If she has to go, she’ll go out never giving up the dream of seeing Adora one more time.

“I said, face me.” She doesn’t turn, but Catra can hear a change in the man. He’s angry… but his words were said with a smile. As if he can hear her thoughts, the man lets out a soft chuckle.

“Ah, so this is where Adora learned such insolent behavior.” She can’t stop herself from turning; resistance is futile at the very notion of anything pertaining to Adora. He laughs again, louder and clearly pleased. “I see, now I have your attention do I?”

The man before her looms tall and menacing, his presence has a confidence to it that’s practically suffocating, and the way he looks at the Prince you’d assume Catra was the trespasser. His smile is practiced, unnaturally fitting on his face like a puzzle piece forced where it was never meant to fit. She hates it, hates the way he makes her feel small in her own home, in her own room, but mostly she hates how she recognizes him. 

He’s the man who was harassing Adora’s grandmother… he’s the reason she had to leave. Something akin to that familiar rage sparked inside her.

“Where’s Adora?” 

The man’s eyes practically sparkled with glee.

“What a wonder, the thing can speak.” He strode forward until he stood in the doorway of the balcony, his deranged grin never faltering. “Your Adora is currently detained, the poor dear was quite distrubed when she returned home. She told us all about you but it riled her up, I’m afraid she’s just as dangerous as that feeble old hag. For her own safety and the wellbeing of our village, I had to have her locked up.” A growl sprang from deep inside Catra’s chest as her ears laid back and her tail lashed. The man observed her shift in demeanor but seemed to pay it no mind; if anything it only served to encourage him. 

“Don’t worry though, she’ll be fine. Once she’s calmed down I’ll release her, she just needs to be reminded of things. And when I’ve disposed of you, there will be nothing left to distract her from being the perfect little pet.” Catra unsheathed her claws, the way this monster spoke about Adora sending her insides ablaze with destructive anger. His words steadily worked further and further under her skin and doused the flames in oil.

“You seem upset by all this, beast. Tell me, do you care for her?”

“Shut up!” She knows she’s playing into his hands but Catra can’t control herself. This man hurt Adora, this man wants to hurt Adora more, and he wants Catra to know.

“Look at you, all worked up. Practically frothing at the mouth over some pretty little thing that led me right to you. You ridiculous animal,” he leaned forward with nothing but electric disdain dancing in his pupils, “did you think she loved you?” 

“I said SHUT UP!” And with that Catra lunged at the man, his smile now a deranged leer as his teeth shined in the moonlight, somehow deadlier than her fangs. He dodged her attack and she felt a sick thunk as his fist met her ribcage, using her own momentum against her as she was flung back into the balcony’s ledge. The crack echoed loud into the quiet night air. She didn’t have time to check in on her own body though, the beaming man with bloodlust in his soul had brandished a sword and was running towards her.

She lept back off the ledge, landing on a roof below and running along its edge till she could hide amongst the gargoyles that decorated the castle’s intricate ledges. He was fast behind her, as she nestled into a hidden nook she heard the crash of his boots onto a roof and his laughter howled like a battle cry.

“Don’t hide from me beast! Come, fight me like the “prince” you claim to be instead of cowering like a mongrel!” 

Fuck fuck fuck. Catra’s torso ached, the pain thudding like a heartbeat on her front and back as she tucked her legs to her chest and attempted to curl into a tight ball. The devil was trying to goad her into fighting and she had played right into his hand. Her anger still raged inside her, screaming for vengeance and blood. How easily her claws could sink into his flesh and tear that smirk from his face! But… looking at her hands, shaking in the soft light of the uncaring moon, it just wasn’t who she was anymore. It never really had been.

She wasn’t some monster, she wasn’t what he thought she was. She was Adora’s Catra, she was her father’s daughter, she was a prince.

“Come out little cat, I don’t like to be kept waiting.” 

_Tough shit asshole_. Catra’s tail wound tightly around her; she wouldn’t be baited. She had fur and perfect night vision, she could outlast him easily enough. 

“You’re only making this worse for her you know.” 

Catra’s ears twitched and she felt ice in her veins, flames of rage now battling an internal war with chilling fear. 

“Once I’m finished with you, I’m going to mount your head above my bed. That way you can watch me and your little pet every night,” his sword screeched in a scream as it was dragged along the stone, “whether she likes it or not.”

This wasn’t about fighting anymore. Catra wasn’t a monster. She wasn’t a creature of violence.

She was a prince, and she would die defending her princess.

Catra let loose a roar, unlike any sound she had ever made as she leapt from her hiding place to perch above a gargoyle, glaring down at the real monster before her. The demon laughed as his sparkling eyes found hers and he raised his sword, its point aimed straight at her heart. 

“And now I have your attention! You are so very predictable.”

“Shut your mouth, you bastard.” Her voice was controlled, eerily calm but fiercely protective, “I won’t let you hurt her. I don’t give a fuck what you do to me but I’ll never let you hurt-”

“CATRA!”

No fires. No fear. Catra felt everything in her stop, the warring emotions ceased fire at the sound of her voice. Her summer day in an endless winter filled every nook and cranny that had been drowned in darkness in her absence.

How could she have sent her away? How did she ever kiss those lips and tell herself she could die without hearing her say her name one more time? How could she have ever believed she would stay away?

Because across the sloping roofs, the spiked ledges, the stone guardians gazing in frozen fierceness, braced against the elegant stone railing of her balcony, stood Adora.

She came back for her.

“Adora! What are yo-,” and before she could finish her thought she caught the shining glint of the man’s sword swinging at her leg. She dodged, flipping over the man’s head, and started sprinting towards a teary-eyed Adora who stood with her arms reaching out, hands desperate to bring her to safety. She was so close, springing to jump only to feel a searing pain as a hand yanked her backwards, slamming her down and sending her sliding on the slanted roof. She recovered, just barely, in time to dig her claws into the decaying shingles and keep from falling off the roof. Even with her feline abilities, she couldn’t survive that fall.

“Leave her alone Prime!” She can hear Adora screaming, but her eyes are locked on the man glowering down at her.

“Oh Adora, don’t worry, once she’s dead I’ll be sure to make a nice rug out of her. She’ll look lovely laid out in front of our fireplace, won’t she?” 

And Adora lets out a broken cry that speaks to something deep within her soul, something that drives her up, lunging at the man distracted by his own ego and laying him flat on his back. His sword, long lost, skitters and clanks as it falls off the roof and makes the endless descent to the ground. Catra has one hand on his throat and the other raised above his head with claws on full display so he can take a good long look at the weapons that will end his miserable existence. She’ll rid the world of this monster and Adora will finally be safe.

“Catra no! Please! This isn’t you, please! Leave him!” Adora’s words are choked with sobs and Catra’s hands still at her pleas. She can’t refuse her, no matter how foolish she is to believe that Catra is above this. But Adora believes in her, and she will do anything to be the woman her princess believes her to be. Her arm lowers, but her grip on Prime’s throat tightens as she leans close.

“Leave. Get on a boat and run far far away from here. And if I ever so much as smell you, I’ll kill you.” Prime nods, panic in his eyes for what Catra guesses is the first time in his life. 

So she releases him, already forgetting his face as she turns to see Adora leaning over the balcony, arm outstretched, eyes brimming with tears unshed, and a wobbly smile just for her.

Her Adora. Her Adora that she loves with every part of who she has ever been, that she loves with all the potential she sees in herself when this magnificent woman smiles at her like she’s the whole world. She’ll give Adora the world, she’ll love her for as long as she can, curse be damned.  
  
  
“Adora…” her voice rasps in spite of herself, her shaking hand reaching for Adora’s.

“It’s okay,” tears spill from her eyes but her smile only grows wider, “I’m here.” And she really is here. Relief engulfs her as her fingers finally find Adora’s, and as their hands clasp together everything else disappears. 

It’s this beautiful distraction that keeps them from noticing the movement from behind Catra until it’s too late. Catra’s hand goes slack in Adora’s grip as the dagger wedges itself where her shoulder meets her neck; someone is screaming but neither can process who. Adora leans dangerously far over the railing to grip at Catra’s frame and drag her up, the adrenaline working overtime to help her muscles grapple with the dead weight of Catra’s body as it goes into shock. 

In the chaos Prime loses his footing, gripping the dagger with one hand and the other yanking at Catra’s hair as he tries to right himself. Catra yelps in pain as the dagger digs deeper and slides down as the desperate man scrambles for safety.

It’s on instinct that Adora adjusts her grip, her right hand free to pull back and swing. For the second time that night, her fist connects with his face, the second time it is in defense of the people she loves. She wants him to stop hurting the bleeding woman in her arms, she wants to pull Catra to safety and hold her close. She doesn’t mean for him to lose his balance. But he does. 

He staggers back, his face a foul twisted mess of rage and malice as he fails to find his footing. That face will haunt her, she is sure of it. She doesn’t watch him fall. 

The man whose life has been in pursuit of grandeur and spectacle leaves this world with not an eye on him.

Adora summons all her remaining strength as she hauls Catra’s limp body over the banister and back into the warmth and safety of her bed-chamber. She gathers the bleeding woman into her lap, ignoring the way the blood is matting Catra’s fur and dripping down her arm. Removing her cape, she can see the open wound, ugly and red and unstopping. Earlier this evening she had been naked and happily cuddled up in Catra’s arms; it feels like a lifetime ago.

“Catra… Catra, stay with me okay? I’m here. I’m right here.” Her words are whispered, her throat so tight with tears she can barely get them out. Catra shivers in her arms but her ears twitch and, moments that feel like eons later, her lids lift just enough that Adora is rewarded with that breathtaking sight of blue and yellow. 

“Adora,” her words are broken and labored but Adora’s heart bursts when her mouth twists into that beloved one-fanged smile, “you came back.”

“Of course I did! I told you I would, you think some stupid speech could stop me?” She giggles through the tears, her hand brushing stray strands from Catra’s face before she bends just slightly to place a kiss on her forehead. “You couldn’t keep me away.” Catra’s grin widens and she moves to lift her hand to Adora’s face, only for her face to crumble in pain as she releases a hiss that makes Adora’s heart break in new ways. “Careful! I-I don’t know what to do. But you’ll be okay, okay? Just stay with me, please.”

Despite the pain, Catra’s eyes are soft and she fights through every screaming part of her as she once again lifts her arm, determined to cradle this beautiful fool’s face in her palm one last time. 

Because she knows this is the last time. She can feel little parts of her slipping away, feels the wound bleeding her out in Adora’s arms. But she has some time left and this goodbye won’t be like their last. This time she’s going to do it right.

“Adora, I need you to listen to me okay? No interrupting, I don’t how long I’ve got-”

“Don’t say that!” The desperation in those soft grey eyes is palpable, her thumb gently stroking the warm skin of Adora’s cheek drenched in tears. Her sweet Adora, crying for her.

“Adora, please.” The blonde emits a shattered sob as she nods her head and moves her hand to lay atop Catra’s, the other gripping the hybrid as close as she can without hurting her. 

“Take care of everyone for me, okay? Even Glimmer, especially her. Tell them I’m sorry and that I want them to all be happy.” Adora nods, worrying at her lip as she bites back the urge to protest, to fight the idea that Catra won’t be able to tell them herself. 

“Okay.”

“This place, it’s yours. All of it. I don’t care if you never come back but it’s all yours Adora. I want you to have it-”  
  
  
“Catra, don’t talk like that. This is your home and I-” she cuts herself off as another sob wracks her shaking form. Catra smiles; she’s trying so hard to be strong for her. 

“What did I say about interrupting, dummy?” Her voice is teasing if not strained. Adora gives another shakey nod and Catra wishes she could just hold her. Wishes she could tell her how important she is, how deserving of love she is, and cover her face in kisses until it mended all the sadness in her heart. What she would give for a smile without tears, even if they are for her.

“Adora,” she can feel the siren song of sleep calling to her now, how the darkness it brings is meant for a permanent sort of rest. She doesn’t have much longer. “Thank you, for being here with me. Thank you for everything, every stupid silly thing you ever did, it meant the world to me. Thank you for being a terrible listener and coming back so I could see you one last time.”

“Please no. Please don’t go, I need you.” That makes Catra smile because of course, she doesn’t. Adora is the most powerful person she’s ever met, a force unlike any other. Adora never needed her, she needed Adora. Her vision starts to grey on the sides, Adora’s face growing foggy despite her best efforts. She wants every last second she can have. 

“I love you, Adora, I think I have from the moment you slammed the door open and made all that noise. I love you so much, I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner.” And she can only see the shape of the woman holding her, can barely feel the way Adora’s tears crash onto her face, her voice a groggy far-away thing. Catra grows still in Adora’s arms as the blonde screams for her to stay.

But Catra doesn’t have a choice, rarely has she ever. She goes content though, she drifts away knowing she got to tell Adora before she left. 

For once, Catra got to say a proper goodbye.

A few feet away, quiet and unnoticed, a petal also loses its battle to stay any longer. With no ceremony or fanfare, the last petal falls. 

_____

The last intruder scampers down towards the gate, limping in shame, as the castle residents cheer from a stone pavilion just outside the castle door. A few stragglers have remained but they seem harmless enough. A couple who appeared later than the others keeps staring at the candelabra while the clock gleefully spins her around. The other is a man who has essentially been adopted by the teacup: he holds her in his palms while his eyes sparkle in delight as she explains all of the traps she had set off this evening. 

It is a strange sight, and there is still so much to be done, but for a brief moment, everyone allows this relief to wash over them. They’re safe from harm's way.

The wardrobe has somehow managed to stumble her way just outside the front door, calling out to the teapot with a mix of relief and delight at the sight of her. The teapot turns and her smile is brighter than anything the wardrobe has ever seen. 

But her smile falls, her eyes dropping to her cart which is stilled.

“I can’t… I can’t make it move.” Perfuma’s eyes look at Scorpia’s in panic. 

“Don’t worry! Probably just tired! I’ll come to you okay, just stay there.” Scorpia is smiling but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. She tries to shuffle forward, but the feet of her frame have gone stiff. She still pushes forward, trying to heave her weight to gain momentum, but she only manages to lose her balance and the grand wardrobe falls to her side.

“No… no it can’t…” Glimmer tears her eyes from Scorpia to find Bow’s soft eyes already waiting to greet her. 

“It’s okay Glimmer.”

“What, no Bow what are you saying! Where’s Catra? And Adora, she, she came back. She came back which means she loves her too. It’s gotta be broken Bow. It can’t-” she goes to move her arms to reach him but finds they’re frozen. 

Upright and proud, like a proper candelabra.

“Mermista!” While no head can turn to see him, eyes follow the piano as the situation dawns on him. “My darling love is all alone! My friends, I must leave you!” And with that, he leaves, the sounds of his creaky wheels echoing in the devastating silence. They can’t know for sure that he makes it, but they hear the sweet tinkle of keys as an old sea shanty dances through the dimming halls. Sea Hawk’s gentle baritone sings of a sailor lost at sea, all hope lost save for the memory of the woman he loves waiting for him at shore. 

It lasts only a minute or so, but the music manages to play after the warm glow from the ballroom windows has dimmed and gone, ensuring the chandelier does not fade away in silence. Moments after, the music follows her.

“What’s happening to all of you?” The man holding Entrapta in his hands looks down to find the teacup smiling sadly at him.

“It would appear that Catra did not successfully break the curse, and now we’re all becoming inanimate. I’m unsure of what our conscious state will be, but this appears to be a goodbye.” She looks out to her fellows, then back to the man gazing down at her. 

“It was nice to meet you…”  
  
  
“Hordak.” The teacup nods and smiles.

“Hordak. It was nice to meet you. I think you would have made an excellent assistant.” And then her eyes shut and Hordak watches as all semblance of the living teacup vanishes.

A few feet away, Scorpio watches Perfuma panic, letting out desperate grunts as she tries to will her little cart forward but even her body is stilling. 

“Hey Perfuma, don’t worry about me okay?” 

“What? No Scorpia, I’m coming to you just give me a second. I can do this.” The wardrobe laughs a little.  
  


“I always loved your tea you know! It felt like drinking a warm hug. You’re an amazing woman Perfuma. I always thought so.”  
  
  
Perfuma stops her struggling, looks to the wardrobe, and feels everything she’s ever buried bubble to the surface. All she wants is to tell that magnificent wardrobe how wonderful every moment was with her, and how she was her favorite part of every day before the curse trapped them here.

But Scorpia is gone, the wardrobe stilled and the face no longer inlaid on it’s top. It’s just a piece of wood filled with beautiful things made by a woman she loved.

The teapot stills soon after.

And then it’s just them, the couple who can’t recall their daughter’s existence and the man who cradles a teacup he barely knows, watching as the clock and candelabra are the last of the objects to fade away.

“Bow… I don’t want to go.”  
  
  
“Me neither Glim, but I don’t think we get a choice.” Glimmer knows she should be crying, knows if she were human her face would be a mess of tears and facial muscles burning from twisted anguish. But she can’t even feel that ache anymore. “I loved you every moment I knew you, and I’m going to love you after this. You’re amazing Glimmer, and it was the privilege of my life to know you.”

And then the clock face twists, the hands moving of their own accord, and suddenly there isn’t Bow anymore… just an old clock ticking as it should.

Glimmer is the last to leave, her eyes taking in all of her friends stilled around her and the sight of her parents watching in confusion. It’s heartbreaking and cruel. She yells, screams with everything in her. Curses the gods and whoever is listening for the unfairness of it all.

No one hears it though, candelabras don’t speak. And the human onlookers watch as the flames of the candle fade away; the only sound is the soft pattering of snow falling to the ground. 

_____

“Catra… come back, please.” Adora’s words are broken whispers, pleading with the universe to undo the most permanent state a person can be in.

Because it’s not fair. It’s bullshit. She looks down at the soft familiar figure in her arms, horribly still and the color drained, like a shadow of the lively misfit who teased her endlessly and had the laugh of some raspy old fisherman that absolutely suited her. Despite the soft downy fur covering her body, Catra only grows colder and Adora instinctively pulls her closer. She wants to keep her warm, wrap her up in safety and see those beautiful mismatched gems look at her like she’s precious again. She wants to get lost in bright blue and shining amber and find herself secure in their grasp.

She wants to hold Catra’s face in her hand and watch those orbs when she tells her she loves her. 

Because she does love her, every part of her aches with it and she can feel the way the heart-wrenching truth of it settles into her bones. How the loss of Catra will haunt her every step, every movement taking her further from the moment she last heard her voice and saw her smile. How she can feel the shadows creeping into her mind and making memories blur, how she desperately clings to every part of the Catra still alive and happy in her mind. What if she forgets how Catra sounds when she sleeps? Or the way her eyes crinkle when she sips her favorite tea? What if she forgets the way it felt to kiss her?

No, that’s not possible. That part she knows is true. Looking down at the lifeless woman cradled close to her chest, Adora knows she’ll never forget what kissing Catra was like because it was truly unlike anything. Incomparable unbridled joy.

“Catra… Catra I need to tell you something, okay?” She knows no response is coming, but she waits and readies herself, willing the words to not break in her throat. It’s the first and only time she will get to say them and Adora will do it right.

She leans in close and places a soft kiss on Catra’s forehead before resting her own forehead against hers, reminiscent of quiet moments they’d shared before. 

“Catra D'riluth, I love you too.” The words hang in the air, a promise and a farewell and a wish for things that should have been. It’s quiet, painfully so… until a rustling catches Adora’s ears and she spins to face the intruder. Clutching the cold body of her prince close, Adora is faced with a cloaked woman seeming to observe her. The violation of someone watching this moment sends a rage through her, and she protectively pulls Catra’s body tighter to her chest. She opens her mouth, barbed words sitting on the tip of her tongue, but before she can spit them into existence the woman smiles at her and turns her attention to the pedestal that once held Catra’s rose.

The rose that she was so defensive of, that Adora knew was somehow a part of all of this but never understood why. The woman moves like she’s been there before, like this is a scene she knows well, and lifts the glass dome to observe the bare stem floating above its dead petals.

“She’s stubborn, isn’t she?” The woman doesn’t look at Adora as she speaks, pulling back the hood of her cloak to reveal rich bronze skin and silky chestnut hair pulled into an elegant braid. There’s something about her, something that makes her seem like she's glowing, almost magical.

But magic is what hurt Catra in the first place, so Adora’s eyes narrow as she cradles the head of the still Prince in her arms. 

“Who are you?”

The woman turns her attention back to Adora, her smile warm though her eyes seem far away.

“Your Razz’s granddaughter aren't you?” Adora sputters in shock but the woman only giggles before turning back to the bare rose stem.

“Well, I’m not one to break a promise. So, let's set things right shall we?” And before Adora can respond, the mysterious woman raises her hands and the rose stem begins to glow, warm and golden. Its petals begin to sparkle, no longer withered and dead but soft and floating as they reassemble themselves around their stem. As though set in reverse, the rose dazzles as it arranges itself into a breathtakingly beautiful bloom. 

Her eyes are transfixed at the brilliant sight before her, but she is not so far gone in awe that she misses the movement in her arms. Horror flashes in her eyes as some invisible force pulls Catra from her grasp. She tries to scream in protest, clinging desperately to the prince as she floats out of Adora’s arms.  
  


“It’s okay Adora, you can let go.” The stranger's voice floats through her ears, almost like something spoken inside her head than by a person across the room. But, for reasons outside her comprehension, she listens and lets her arms fall away as the glowing warmth that consumed the rose now swirls and dances around Catra’s floating figure. She squints into the light, somehow growing brighter by the second, but she is determined not to take her eyes of Catra. It isn’t until she is hit with a sudden flash of light, more blinding than staring into the sun on a clear summer day, that her eyes concede and shut.

When they open again, the woman is gone. The room still feels brighter though, warmer than she’s ever known it to be. She’s shocked to find that it's not magic that’s changed the room, but sunlight spilling in from the balcony. Almost as a greeting, a warm breeze rustles through the drawn curtains to brush her cheek as it glides through the room. There is no chill in the air, the silence of snow has faded and is replaced with the distant sounds of birds chirping and voices from far away.

Movement pulls her gaze from the change of weather to find a woman on the floor, a wild mess of brown hair hiding her face from Adora’s view as she sits kneeling and gazing at her hands. The skin on her fingers is a familiar, warm tan that reminds her of something soft she’s known before. There are no soft all-hearing ears on her body, nor a tail wiggling on the floor behind her. And unlike the prince Adora held moments ago, this woman is without injury; in fact, all signs of the night’s carnage have vanished. 

The figure turns suddenly, as though sensing eyes on her, and when she faces Adora it’s like all the air has been sucked from the blonde’s chest.

Beautiful blue and inviting amber find soft grey and everything melts away with two little words.

“Hey, Adora.”

There is no long moment to process the greeting, no second to consider the woman in front of her, or pause on what has occurred. It is instantaneous as Adora launches her whole body at Catra, bringing both of them tumbling onto the stone floor as she is a mess of tears and laughs and the compulsive need to kiss every inch of the giggling woman beneath her. It's minutes of whispering “you’re here”, “you scared me” “you came back”, and “I’m never letting you go” by both until there’s just one thing that needs to be said. A confession that is best suited for when death is not waiting in the wings and you have the blessing of time and tenderness.

“I love you Catra.” The woman beneath her, though ears are unfamiliar and skin surprisingly smooth, is without a doubt the same woman who saw her for all she was. The woman who sat for hours in a silent library, played with her in the snow, danced with her at a ball made just for them. This is her Catra, her prince, the woman she loves with every little piece of herself.

“I love you too, dummy.” And there is that smirk, the little smile that somehow has kept the little fang that makes Adora’s heart skip a beat. “C’mere.” 

Those beautifully soft hands rest on Adora’s rosy cheeks and gently pull her closer, guiding her face so their lips can find each other again. Catra tastes of warm nights at home, bodies curled tight around each other as they whisper secrets, dumb jokes, and delight in how in the moonlight they can still see the other’s smile. Adora tastes of picnics outside, high atop hillsides near towns they’ve yet to explore and Catra with her head in Adora’s lap as the blonde reads another story from their collection. The kiss is tender, warm, and filled with all the unspoken promises that will surely be spoken later when they have the time.

Because now they do.

_____

The castle is brighter, as though it too was under the curse. No longer are the halls dark and threatening but warm and bright. Where there were menacing greys, Adora now sees beautiful golds and soft colors. It shines like it’s never known a cobweb and the portraits are intact once more, as though claw marks never shredded them in a dark moment. Everything is changed, but somehow it feels even more familiar.

“WILDCAT” The nickname is all the warning they’re granted as a large platinum-haired woman rushes at them before scooping Catra into a bone-crushing hug. Adora watches in amusement as Catra pretends to put up a fight before conceding and wiggling so she can wrap her arms around the woman. 

“Hey big gal, good to see you again.” 

Scorpia is a mess of tears, not that anyone can blame her. As Adora surveys the room of familiar strangers, there is not a dry eye to be found among them. Not that Adora and Catra are faring any better, Adora is certain she is no better than a dam made of parchment paper whose holes have been patched with spun sugar. Before she can wonder who is who, she finds herself squished against the love of her life as Scorpia has decided it’s time for Adora to join in on the action.

Though her ribs are sure to crack at any second, she smiles and lets her head rest on Scorpia’s chest. She knows who this is without any introduction, the wardrobe had always mentioned her affinity for hugs.

“Scorpia,” comes a calming sing-song voice from somewhere behind them, “I think our friends might need to breathe soon.” The two are almost immediately set on the ground and watch as a tall billowy blonde woman steps to Scopria’s side, a gentle hand placed firmly on her shoulder. 

“Oh my gosh, haha absolutely right Perfuma, I think I just got so excited. Oh wow Catra, look at you. I might cry, wow, it's just been so long since I’ve seen you. And you look great! But man, it’s gonna take a second to get used to you without a tail, but boy is that gonna make pants a lot easier. Not that I had any complaints! But it definitely is hard to pull off without hands you know?”

Yeah, that’s obviously Scorpia.

The former teapot moves in front of Catra and Adora, placing a hand on each of their shoulders, and smiles so warmly Adora instantly feels the same calm wash over her as a soothing tea. 

“I’m so grateful to see you’re both well and have finally found each other.” Perfuma looks at Catra, “And I am so relieved to see you smile without burden, Catra. Truly, a sight we’ve all missed. Welcome back.” And that is apparently all Scorpia can manage from a distance before she pulls them all into another crushing hug.

When they have finally detangled from Scorpia’s bone-crushing embrace and left her in the all-too-happy hands of Perfuma, they begin making their rounds. New faces for old friends greet her one after the other, tears and hugs as everyone thanks her (for reasons she’s unclear on), and welcomes Catra back. Adora occasionally worries she’s overstepping, that she shouldn’t be privy to such intimate moments between Catra and her found family, but the prince’s hand never fails to find hers and pull her close. Every opportunity she has, Catra lets her hand fall to Adora’s hip so she can hold the blonde close.

They had both promised to never let the other go again, and apparently, that applies to any space over 2 feet.

Adora is surprised that when she meets Entrapta she finds a woman who needs no magic to get into trouble, as her long flowing purple pigtails appear to be sentient and she is accompanied by a living contraption she recognizes as Emily. Her fascination with the mechanized companion is cut short as realizes that the man at her side isn’t a resident, but Hordak. 

For a moment Adora grows still, a cold fear grips her heart as she looks into the eyes of the shadow whose master she let fall to his doom only hours ago. Catra senses her discomfort, the hand on her waist squeezing reassurance as the prince narrows her eyes at the man before them. Entrapta’s chatter has gone quiet as she too notices the discomfort between the two and looks at Catra inquisitively.

“Hordak… I-I uhhh,” visions of the mob closing in on her swarm her brain, and panic starts to settle in. When he discovers Prime’s fate he’ll tell everyone. He’ll bring them all back and then-

“Adora, I’m sorry.” Adora’s beating heart doesn’t slow but she pauses as her eyes lock on his and she fails to find any hidden malice in them. “I’m sorry for allowing Prime’s cruelty to run unchecked… I was a coward, consumed with the need for security. What he did, what I partook in, was cruel. I, and everyone else, owe you an immense apology.”

It is not enough, not by a long shot… but it’s something. He is sincere and that will have to do for now. Adora extends a hand, much to Hordak’s surprise, and they shake before Adora politely excuses herself. Catra is by her side instantly, hands rubbing her arms and whispering sweet words of encouragement. A steady panic nips at her heart but it is nothing compared to the soothing sound of raspy “I love you’s” and the security of feeling Catra’s forehead rest against her own.

“I’m so proud of you Adora,” she whispers, her eyes so earnest and smile so tender, “but say the word and I’ll run him out of the country.” The notion is ridiculous and Adora doubts that it would help, but it draws a giggle out of her and that is all Catra needs to hear. “Now, you gonna help me find Sparkles? Or do you need a second?”

When they do find Glimmer, they hang back and take in the sight of the lady-in-waiting, her hair a bright pink that shimmers in the sunlight, smiling through tears as she is encircled in love on all sides. A man in a crop top and his hair pulled back in a bun has Glimmer held tight to his chest; his muscles flex as he grips her tight, as though one embrace is meant to embody years of never quite being able to reach her. Holding the two of them are Micah and Angella, also a mess of tears as they take turns kissing at the top of Glimmer’s head. Adora feels something beautiful and sad tug at her heart when she sees the resemblance: the two had always seemed like they were parents.

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees that Catra’s resolve has broken and she is a wet-faced sniffling mess. Adora leans over, placing a chaste kiss on her teary cheek before whispering, “Go on.”

Catra takes two cautious steps forward and it is as far as she gets before Glimmer catches her in her periphery and breaks from her group hug to run with arms outstretched towards the prince. The prince also breaks into a sprint and when the two collide, Glimmer lifts Catra in her arms and they spin and shriek like delighted children. 

Adora makes her way to the man she has only known as a clock and before she can manage a word of greeting he has pulled her into a warm embrace, an embrace that is soon crowded by Glimmer and Catra and two very emotional scholars. When they finally separate, though not by much, Glimmer looks to them all with a delighted smile on her face.

“Well, as much as I would like to stay here and hug all day, someone needs to check the ballroom. DT said they heard music for all of 2 minutes before Mermista slammed the door shut and locked it.” Bow blushes in shy horror and Catra just cackles in delight. 

“How did they even lock it? Those doors don’t lock!” Glimmer smirks at her and shrugs.

“Mermista is a determined woman.” The group laughs and makes their way into the castle, Glimmer resuming chattering on to her parents about the castle and everything they missed with Bow following close behind excitedly shouting add ons and waving to every resident they pass.

Adora watches it all from the doorway, awash with something peaceful and strange. A sensation of belonging that she hadn’t known outside of Razz’s kitchen. 

“Adora!” She shakes her stupor and sees Catra smiling at her fondly, her eyes soft and free from the burden that had lingered in her features for so long. She reaches out a hand for Adora and tilts her head just so.

“You coming?”

And Adora reaches forward, their fingers interlocked as the prince pulls her through the threshold and into her home.

Their home.

_____

“Momma!” The contents of Catra’s teacup nearly spill all over her lap at the shock of Finn bursting through the doors of the library. They’re a big fan of dramatic entrances, which she supposes is what she gets for letting them spend so much time with DT. Glimmer teases that it’s just karma for being such a nightmare when she was young. Adora just thinks it’s wonderful… most of the time.

She seems to have a bit of a blind spot when it comes to their child. Catra would find it annoying if the sight of Adora cooing over their hellraising 7-year-old wasn’t so wonderfully heart-melting.

Catra makes quick work to place her teacup on the side table next to her chair as, like clockwork, Finn proceeds to sprint full speed before hurling themselves into her lap. They smile up at her, all teeth and dopey delight, just like their mother.

“Well hello there my little instigator, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” She smirks at them teasingly, the little one already snug in her lap with their head resting against her chest, blue eyes gazing at her like a clear spring sky. Those troublesome orbs are soft like Adora’s and calculating like Catra’s, but with a playfulness she knows belonged to her father. Every time she sees fragments of him in them, she is overwhelmed with the need to pull Finn close and bury her face in their hair.

Finn calls it “Momma’s squishy time” and there’s always a 50/50 chance it’ll make Adora tear up instantly.

“Mama and I were in the garden for our picnic with grandma Razz and Mrs Fuma and I had an idea!”

“Oh? And what was this idea?” They shake their head and fix her with a stern look.

“No Momma, we gotta wait for Mama first.” Catra fixes them with a puzzled look before her attention is drawn to the sight of an out-of-breath and red-faced Adora in the doorway. Her forehead is slick with sweat and her eyes are locked on Finn with a look of utter betrayal.

“Finn! What did I say about running off?” They look to Adora and merely shrug before looking at Catra with an almost conspiratorial look.

“The baby makes Mama too slow.” Catra bites down a laugh before removing Finn from her lap so she can help her clearly agitated and very pregnant queen.

“Little shit said they had something they needed to tell us and just sprinted off. Didn’t even get to finish my pie.” Adora grumbles in a whisper as Catra runs a supportive arm under her shoulder and guides her to the plushest loveseat in the library. The blonde practically drops into it with a heavy thud before pulling her wife down with her, placing a soft kiss on her neck before nuzzling her head on her shoulder. Catra raises her hand to gently tuck fallen strands of gold behind her love’s ear before placing a long kiss on the crown of her head. 

Finn dramatically coughs, their face a dusty pink and nose scrunched in exaggerated disgust. “Stop being gross. I wanna tell you my idea!” They stand with their arms crossed and looking like a mirror image of her royal advisor. Truly Glimmer’s influence knows no bounds, though perhaps it’s fair since Catra taught her twins about the joys of prank wars. In her defense, Bow’s eyebrows eventually grew back. 

Nevertheless, she adjusts so her arm wraps around Adora’s shoulders and gives Finn her full attention. 

“Go on Finn, tell us your big idea.” Despite her annoyance moments ago, the warmth and love in Adora’s voice wraps Catra and Finn up in kindness, and Catra watches the way just the sound of it settles their child. Finn nods their head excitedly, eyes lit up with palpable delight.

“So you know how Princess Frosta and her moms are coming to visit next week?” Adora nods while Catra silently curses because no she did not remember and definitely forgot Queens Netossa and Spinnerella were coming to discuss a new trade agreement. Maybe she could talk Glimmer into writing that up for her?

“Momma focus!”

“Yeah Momma, focus.” Adora teases and Catra blows a raspberry in her hair for good measure before giving Finn an apologetic look. 

“Okay so remember how you asked what I wanna be called when I get introduced?” Catra stills, the memory of saying something to her own mother flashing before her eyes: the way she had been so excited only to be heartbroken a moment later, and how she promised herself that if she was a grown-up she would never be so mean.

She feels Adora’s hand slip into her own and squeezes it tightly, grounding her in this moment before she can lose herself in something long gone.

“Yeah love, I remember.” The little one beams with pride as they place both hands on their hips and puff out their chest with pride.

“I have decided that I will be called “Deity Finn” from now on!” They look so pleased with themselves, looking at their mothers expectantly. 

“Finn…” Adora starts, her tone questioning and Catra feels her stomach drop instinctively, “do you know what that word means?” Finn smirks at them: silly moms and their silly brains for not knowing cool words. 

“Of course Mama”, they reply, almost patronizingly patient, “it means godlike.”

“Wonderful. And where did you learn this word?” Again Finn comes alive at the opportunity to educate silly moms.

“It was in a book Uncle Bow was showing me. He said deities are just gods and gods are just super strong people who get to be in charge. And you and Momma are strong and in charge and I’m pretty strong so I like it.”

“Well, it sounds like you did your research, didn’t you? I think that sounds wonderful, what do you think Momma?” Adora turns to face her wife but when Catra opens her mouth to respond, she finds emotions just keep bubbling up and catching her words before they can leave. Finn’s face drops into one of concern, they inch closer until they can rest their hand on her knee.

“Momma? Do you not like it? I can go by something else if you want-” but before they can finish their thought, Catra reaches out and pulls Finn tight into her lap, wrapping them in her arms. She doesn’t want to cry, what if she’s messing it up? She wants to be perfect for Finn, everything her father was and all the things her mother wasn’t. 

“It’s perfect,” she whispers into their hair. “I love you so much.”

“Momma… you’re being squishy.” And Catra can’t help the laugh that escapes her, even as Finn wiggles and squirms until they’re free of her hold. “Okay, well I’m gonna tell the twins and then probably get a cookie for me and Melog as a treat for being so smart. If you don’t want me to, just have Mama catch me!” And with a smirk and a wink, they’re gone, the old door slamming behind them.

A moment passes and Adora adjusts, sitting herself up so that they can switch and Catra can cuddle into her. The blonde starts to hum softly as she lets her fingers drift through her wife’s hair, letting the king settle and speak in her own time.

“I’m so scared I’m gonna mess up with them. Both of them.” The king’s hand drifts to softly rub at the queen’s bump. “I just… I wish he was here to tell me how he did it, you know?” Adora hums, placing a soft kiss on her wife’s head.

“I think he’d say you’re doing a great job.” Catra laughs and looks up to find that wonderful face she loves looking back down at her. “I also think he’d say he had no idea what he was doing. I’ve read your book and it sounds like he was almost as chaotic as you. Honestly, if I ever catch you and Finn playing on the roof, so help me Catra you’ll wish you had 9 lives.” She punctuates her point with a jab to Catra’s ribs that has the King giggling as she swats her hand away.

When she finally settles back, her head once again resting on Adora’s chest, she lets the tranquility wash over her. Catra lets herself truly take in everything in her life, the absolute plot twist of how wonderful things could be despite such ugly beginnings. How much she wishes she could go back in time and hold that little 11-year-old girl, crying all alone in this very room, and tell her how beautiful it would all be. How unimaginably wonderful it would all turn out.

How one day she’ll look around and realize she isn’t alone; how after that day, she’ll never be alone again.

“I love you,” she whispers. Adora smiles, leaning down to kiss her with lips that feel like home. “Thanks for coming back for me.”

Adora laughs against her lips and Catra finds herself once again lost in the soft grey clouds of her wife’s eyes.

“Of course, but it was dumb for you to think I could stay away.”

They spend the next few hours just basking in each other; in fact, it’s how they spend most days. Just the two of them finding quiet moments away from everyone else to simply marvel at the life they’ve found themselves in.

And Catra continues to be delighted that spending every day with Adora is nothing like she ever imagined. For nothing in her imagination could have dreamt of something so wonderful. 

It’s like a fairytale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi y'all :)
> 
> I know this took a second but I just wanted to get absolutely everything in here and make sure I gave you all an ending that fit all this build-up and angst and gave you what you deserved (a well-earned happy ending). 
> 
> I want to thank you all so much for reading, for commenting, for kudos-ing, for sharing; this has been such a delight to write and it made me feel less alone in a very weird time. I haven't written fic in so long and I fell in love with making something that made people happy. So thank you for giving me that. I loved this story, this silly little idea I got listening to "evermore", and that it just kind of took off from there. 
> 
> And I am absolutely going to miss this AU, it was so dramatic and angsty and gay and wonderful and it made me so happy to just be able to disappear into it for hours at a time.
> 
> Special thanks to:
> 
> [Pandoras_hope](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pandoras_hope/pseuds/Pandoras_hope) for being the world's best beta reader. Sharing your story is intimidating as fuck and handing it over to a person to review can be stressful, but they did it with such love and care that sending them chapters was one of my favorite parts. Having someone love your story and wanting it to succeed is just such a crazy awesome feeling and I couldn't have done this without them. 
> 
> [Han_the_dragon](https://www.instagram.com/han_the_dragon/) who went from making amazing beautiful art for this fic to being just a wonderful cheerleader, motivation provider, and an awesome person to bounce ideas off of and appreciate capes with. If you haven't checked their work out, I cannot recommend it enough.
> 
> And yeah, wow, that's it. We made it. You made it! 
> 
> I do have another Catradora fic in the works called "A Hum from the Woods" and I'm hoping to have the first chapter up in the next week or two. It'll be a modern AU but set in the Whispering Woods and there are curses and magic and Catra is a cat because that's my favorite. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and I love you <3

**Author's Note:**

> Words I didn't realize I didn't know how to spell: candelabra, whinny, reins
> 
> Let me know what you think? I'm on twitter with the same user and SaveTheKat on tumblr.


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